


A Game of Parks Book 2: From Ashes

by Gregotaku



Series: A Game of Parks [2]
Category: South Park
Genre: Multi, basically a parody of Warhammer Fantasy at that point, expect lots of memes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-08-08 11:45:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 48,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16428767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gregotaku/pseuds/Gregotaku
Summary: The Eagle has fallen. After an unexpected coup d'état, Craig and Tweek were forced to flee Telos and leave it in the hands of Marjorine and Cartman. The Kingdom is now more divided than ever, with many lords still loyal to the king in exile. Repression and terror spread throughout the land, while the High Elves led by Prince Kyle continue their relentless search for the Stick of Truth. As both sides prepare for war, a new threat festers in the dark...





	1. A New Order

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO THERE  
> I am proud to post the first chapter of AGoP Volume 2! If you've already read part 1, thank you very much for your continued support!  
> As is the ritual, the soundtrack:  
> 1: Darkest Dungeon Soundtrack: The Hamlet  
> 2: BSO Game of Thrones. Track 11- Winter Is Coming  
> 3: Palpatine's Teachings Extended Ambient  
> 4: Black Rose (Total War: Warhammer Soundtrack)  
> 5: Darkest Dungeon OST - Weald combat music  
> 6: Game of Thrones: Season 6 OST - Needle (Unused track & EP 08 credits)  
> 7: Game of Thrones Season 3 OST 15 - The Night Is Dark  
> Thank you and I hope you will enjoy it! See you soon for chapter 2!

(1)

It was the beginning of the 758th year of the Third Era, and the end of a period of deep change and instability not only in the kingdom, but on the whole continent of Telos.

Elven hegemony on the continent had been struck a serious blow by a most ambitious young king. However, it is that same ambition that brought his demise; furious at her hubsand's infidelity with another man, the queen allied with her old nemesis and backstabbed the monarch when he least expected it. The king and his lover, with the help of their families, managed to escape and go into exile, whereas the young woman crowned herself as the sole and rightful queen of the kingdom.

Queen Marjorine was far from content, however. No matter where they hid, she would find her ex-husband and his lover and bring them to justice. _Her_ justice.

Eric Cartman had established a secret police which, when dispatched in every corner of the kingdom, would not let any piece of information concerning the Tucker's whereabouts get past them. It was just a matter of time, and Marjorine had plenty of time.

"You let her die so peacefully?"

"She had already drunk the poison, My Queen. There is nothing else I could have done."

Marjorine let out a frustrated sigh and got up from her seat, taking a few steps around the room of the small council. Snowflakes were gently falling on the windows, the only source of light in this cold, stone-gray room.

"That stupid hag...the maggots can have her for all I care," she spat, "I hope she'll be watching when I'll catch her children."

"Of course My Queen, we will make sure this day comes." Cartman said with his most honeyed tone, "My Witch Hunters are relentless, they will scour the land until they find them!"

Marjorine took a few steps around the room, judging the answer of her courtier. The small council had not reunited in a while and much time would fly before another meeting. Marjorine's small council was basically Cartman on his own and the latter was very much enjoying this privilege.

"Tweek and Craig aren't our only concern, however. After the war, Craig has placed nobles loyal to him...many of them still are. They will try to act against us."

A servant entered the room and bowed to them.

"Your Grace, the townsfalk are at the gates."

"What do they want?"

"They are asking for your presence at once."

Cartman's lips turned into an annoyed rictus.

"Can't the guard just take care of that?"

"There is no need to get to that. Tell them I am on my way."

"Immediately, Your Grace."

The messenger went out to carry on his duty, while Cartman raised an eyebrow.

"Are you really going?"

"The people are worried since Craig has left and rightly so," Marjorine explained, "besides, we must send back to the dominion the food and gold he has brought from Mediflumina as compensation...It is my duty to put their minds at ease."

Unwilling to be lectured by Cartman, she left the room and ordered some servants to go fetch her coat. A few minutes later, she exited the keep and stepped on the wooden podium in front of the doors, usually used by the town crier in the morning. The guards were forming a circle all around to keep the human horde at bay.

Even if the arrival of Marjorine had lowered the tension and the noise coming from the townsfolk, the air was still heavy.

"My dear people, what do you want from me?"

A cacophony of cries engulfed the plazza. A servant blew into a horn to bring back some order.

"SILENCE! SILENCE! ONE AT A TIME!" he yelled louder than all the others.

"What about the food King Craig brought back from his conquest? We still don' have any of it, we' starvin'!" someone yelled back.

The rest of the inhabitants backed them up loudly. This time, it was Marjorine who brought back silence by speaking up herself:

"The spoils of war taken by Craig Tucker were acquired illegaly. To avoid retribution from the Dominion, we have sent back those spoils to Zaron as reparation. We still have plenty of food in the royal granaries and we are ready to share it with each and everyone of you."

"But where's the King?! Why's he gone?!" another voice rose up.

"The King was guilty of conspiracy to ascend to the throne and his careless leadership brought us close to a catastrophic war with the Dominion. He was too craven as to face justice and hides somewhere in Telos. Whoever helps us finding him and his accomplices...will get double his share in food."

Whispers spread all over the audience, until Cartman finally appeared on the walls, slowed down by his wounded leg. The townspeople reacted badly; most booed him and insulted him on sight, while others hurled stone at his direction. Marjorine threw him a death glare, she who had feared that turn of events. The guards took a step forward and pushed the rioters back with their shield.

"Please, I understand your anger and worry, but those are difficult times for everyone and Lord Cartman, along with the Witch Hunters, are a valuable help in fighting whoever is a threat to us. I only have your best interests in mind, as I always have."

The crowd seemed mildly convinced by the queen's words. To calm them further, she ordered the content of the granaries to be shared immediately.

She turned around and headed for the castle, Cartman waiting for her on her way.

"You averted this crisis like a true monarch, well done!"

She pretended not to hear him and returned to the safety of the keep.

O.O.O.O.O

(2)

"A simple letter...I guess we'll have to take that as our farewell."

Bebe, Nichole and Clyde lowered their gaze at Token's statement. As soon as word of Craig's fall had reached them, the ruling couple of Hammersun travelled North and reunited with their friends in the Cliff.

Redfield would certainly be one of the first cities to be asked for a renewed pledge of allegiance to the queen. Helios would follow soon enough, and they all knew that negociations led by Cartman would lead to no good.

"And with the Tweak and the McCormicks pratically out..." Nichole added.

"How quickly the tide turns..." Bebe sighed.

Token threw the paper away and poured hismelf another glass of wine.

"So what do we do now? Bend the knee?" Bebe asked.

"To Cartman? Never!" Clyde replied with disgust, "Besides, they cannot attack us if we refuse to submit. They don't have the manpower nor the money to wage another civil war!"

"Nor can _we_ , Clyde," Token pointed out, "the coffers are almost empty...and it's out of the question to get the money from Mediflumina back, Marjorine probably kept it in Kingsrock or sent it to the Elves."

"So we are in a forced statu quo until Craig returns."

"If Craig _ever_ returns...The Tuckers are either dead or went into hiding," Nichole deplored, "Bluehaven is controlled by the Cartmans now."

"Well, if Tweek went with him, it means they can surely communicate with the other Tweaks using their powers." Bebe said.

Her gaze shifted towards Token.

"You are a good friend of Alex Tweak. Maybe if you send him a raven, we would be able to keep in touch with Craig and Tweek, wherever they may be!"

"Good idea. It's not the solution to our immediate problems but...it's a start."

Satisfied with her intervention, Bebe finished her own glass of wine. She also noticed that the sky was already growing darker by the minute. With the recent events and the short days, it was easier than ever to be under the weather.

"Alright, that's enough planning for today," she said while rising from her seat, "I also think I am going to throw a banquet for tomorrow evening, this will soothe everyone's mind. What do you say, friends?"

Nichole and Token exchanged an uncertain look. As for Clyde, he smiled warmly at his wife.

"Well...it's been indeed a while since we had some fun..." Nichole admitted.

"I think it's a great idea," Token agreed, "let's feast as long as we can!"

Bebe giggled, overjoyed. She immediately went to fetch the chamberlain to begin the preparations. At the same time, Clyde showed his friends the way to their quarters and couldn't resist giving them a tour of his new home. Then, once his friends were at ease, he bid them good night and went down the stairs leading to the underground part of the castle.

(3)

Even if their friends were missing and their enemy on the throne, Clyde was happier than he had ever been: he went from lowborn to noble and married the woman of his dreams, he had his own castle and his own lands and good friends he could rely on. He couldn't wait to have many children with Bebe. A big, happy family is what he had always wanted. However, in order to reach that dream, he would have to protect the ones he loved. Protect them from Cartman's lust for power, from Marjorine's mad quest for revenge, from the Elves, from anyone who would do them harm. Even with castles and troops, as Token said, it might not have been enough to defend themselves. Few things were as feeble as a man, after all.

But Clyde Donovan was more than just a man. Unbeknown to most, he held great control over the wind of death. Practice of the lore of death was frowned upon in most parts of Telos, forcing him to keep his magical affinity a secret to even his closest friends. Despite that, he always thirsted for more knowledge; he had already acquired some tomes of necromancy he was eagerly studying late during the night, while everyone else was soundly asleep. But maybe those who have been sleeping for the longest time would eventually awaken.

After all, the dead didn't ask for any gold to fight.

O.O.O.O.O  
(4)

The freezing cold during the winter in Telos was enough to keep most of people locked inside their houses, but the weather was not the only culprit. Quite the contrary.

It was during the long and cold winter nights that many kinds of malevolent beasts and monsters would emerge from the deep forests and woods spread throughout the kingdom, hunting for fresh meat. Unfortunate peasants and small hamlets were the most hunted preys.

Dire wolves were the most common among these foul creatures: wolves, but dire.

Any man bitten by one of those rabbid beasts would turn into a werewolf, a cursed mix between a man and a direwolf. These poor souls were often completely consumed by the new pretadory instinct within them and transformed whenever their thirst for blood took over. This case was not the worst, however: the worst scenario was when, by extraordinary resilience of the mind, the cursed could shapeshift _at will._ It meant that the afflicted had kept their sanity and was using their monstruous powers when they felt like it, because they actually _enjoyed_ it somehow.

In centuries past, many expeditions were sent to eradicate the creatures but as expected, many of the men brave enough to dare themselves into the forests never returned. Some campaigns were relatively successful however, and at the time when Marjorine Stotch ascended to the throne, reports of attacks by beasts had significantly dropped. Still, they had not disappeared and whenever words of monster sightings reached the ear of a lord, they would call on the Witch Hunters to take care of it.

The Witch Hunters, as their name implied, hunted any person that practiced magic illegaly or with evil intent, particularly necromancers. They also hunted down heretics, dangerous lunatics and all sorts of fell creatures that preyed on human civilization, be it werewolves, cockatrices, wraiths and other horrors. Their chapter house was established in Eastedge. The order of the Witch Hunters was almost as old as the kingdom but it really became a nation-wide and florishing business under the patronage of House Cartman, who gradually used them as a secret police.

Now that a Cartman was in charge of the kingdom's security, the Witch Hunters had been deployed en masse, not only for their usual tasks but also to find out where the "traitors to the crown" were hiding and bring them to justice.

If you were a peasant living in a rather isolated hamlet, being visited by a Witch Hunter was both terrifying and reassuring at the same time; they were here to protect you and your family, but who knew if they wouldn't accuse _you_ of the deeds you so feared? After all, a werewolf is no more but a simple man before transforming.

That fear had taken over a small village a few miles west from Kingsrock, where a team of three Witch Hunters had been dispatched to investigate a werewolf attack that had slain two men the week before. Two of them were tall men wearing a wide-brimmed hat, a buckled tunic and a long brown cloak with a stone-cold expression on their faces. The third one was a slightly smaller woman wearing a patched jacket with brown pants and leather boots. She wore the same signature wide-brimmed hat of the Witch Hunters but with a purple flower fixed to it. She had long, smooth brown hair and pale skin.

"That's all the village, ma'am." one of the men said.

About fifty people were standing in front of them, not quite sure of where this whole thing was going.

"As you know a werewolf is hiding in plain sight," she said while her gaze wandered from one peasant to another, "we have been here for a few days and still no sign of the beast. That is why we will take a different approach from now on. Everyone, women and children included, take off your shirts. _Now._ "

A wave of confusion took over the population. Soon many of them started to protest, not willing to show their bodies to everyone but also because it was way too cold to take off their clothes.

"It's freezin'! No way I'm takin' off me clothes!" one of them shouted.

"I don't care how cold it is, this was an order!"

"Fo' what? Do ya think the We'wolf is hidin in ou' shirts?!"

The young woman spotted the troublemaker and walked to him. Suddenly, she grabbed him by the colar and brought him very close to her own face.

"Listen to me, smartypants. I don't give a fuck about your life, nor about the one of your friends here. If I have to hang this whole village to find that werewolf, _I'll do it._ "

She released him and he fell harshly on his butt. Afraid by the display, everyone started to undress. The two Witch Hunters went through the ranks and examined the bodies to find any wounds. One of them stumbled upon a man with a large bandage around his hand.

"You, why is your hand that way?"

"Uh...I'm a tailor sir, I just cut meself with scissors two days ago."

"Take off the bandage."

The man obeyed and revealed an already cicatrized wound on the back of his hand. It was too thin and neat to be a bite.

"Alright, you can put it back."

Further away, the younger Witch Hunter went to a man looking rather nervous, or at least more nervous than the others around him. He had a bandage around his left arm and shoulder.

"Take off the bandage."

"But I broke my arm!"

"Sorry to hear that. Take it off."

Begrudgingly, the peasant went to untie the bandages. As soon as they fell off, a large bloody mark was revealed at the base of his neck. Before the Witch Hunter could react, he threw the bandages at her face and tried to punch her.

(5)

She knew that this one was suspicious and she quickly rolled backwards to avoid a fist aimed at her face.

"FOUND IT! EVERYONE ON ME NOW!"

The man let out a inhuman growl and soon black fur started to grow at an alarming pace all over his body. His teeth and jaw grew wider, his eyes thinner and his nails turned into sharp claws. He was towering over everyone else: he must have been more than 6 foot tall. The transformation was incredibly fast; a few seconds was enough for the man to turn into a monstrosity.

With a large swipe of his claws, he tried to rend the girl but she dodged switfly with a cartwheel. The monster attacked once more but this time she drew a dagger of pure silver from beneath her coat and slashed the furry hand before it could catch her. The creature howled in pain, the enchanted metal had created a steaming and painful wound on its paw.

The werewolf turned around and charged towards the center of the village, causing panic among the denizens. The two other Witch Hunters took out their handbows (a one-handed, miniature version of the crossbow) and shot the monster. The poisonous quarrels hit home but it wasn't enough to prevent the werewolf's charge; with a powerful dash, he sent one of the Witch Hunters flying behind. The other one drew his silver rapier in haste and pierced the creature's flank before it could turn on him. However, this only earned him its wrath, as the werewolf rended him with his powerful claws immediately after. The wounded Hunter fell on the ground bleeding and disarmed, and he could tell that the end was upon him.

Suddenly, before the monster could strike the deathblow, the Witch Huntress reached for something in a satchel tied to her hip and threw it with all her might on the werwolf. The poison darts dug themselves into the beast's hard skin and the later decided that it was great time to deal with the girl. The fiend closed the distance between them and it tried to land several hits on the Huntress but she was swift and evasive, dodging every blow and counter-attacking with rapid slashes of her dagger. Gradually, the beast felt its strength fading with every movement. His vision was becoming blurry and its body heavy. Eventually, it collapsed on the ground, at the feat of the Huntress, who smirked victoriously.

"Oh? Did that sting?"

The werewolf lifted his arm but it was pointless, it could feel life slipping away from its body.

"Asp venom my dear, don't bother trying anything."

With a sickly growl, the creature expired. The inhabitants slowly emerged from their hovels and rejoiced at the sight of the dead creature. The Witch Hunters tended to their wounds, while the Huntress retrieved her darts and set fire to the carcass.

"This one was quick...This is becoming a tad repetitive." she sighed.

Her collegues went to her, one of them holding a paper in his hands.

"Ma'am, Lord Cartman needs you at the capital. He has a special task for you."

"Hmpf, it's like he's feeling when I'm getting bored!" she snorted, "Very well, next stop is Kingsrock then."

She headed for the horses, which were grazing in the plains around the hamlet, the two men on her trail.

"Damn, I don't know what I should be more afraid of; the beasts we're hunting or her." one of them whispered to the other.

"You'll learn that soon enough, rookie. They don't call her "Calamity Heidi" for nothing."

O.O.O.O.O

(6)

Another sunrise, another day of infinite water.

Or maybe not?

Clouded in mist, land finally emerged from the distance. After more than one week of sailing, the voyage was near its end. Tweek's eyes widened as he recognized the land ahead, which had always been a legend before.

The Emerald Isles, the last refuge of the Dwarfs.

Once safely into port, Tweek and Craig disembarked, the first covered by a large brown cloak, the other one with a cape and his old hat. Too much discretion couldn't hurt.

The port was a really busy place with many docks and warehouses, a central commercial hub lost in the middle of the ocean. Ships with foreign and strange designs were docked all around.

A Dwarf with a red beard and purple robes was directing the stream of people in different directions. Eventually, his gaze fell on the two young men and they both could already tell that he was already annoyed.

"Before you say anything manling," he said in perfect Telosian, "no, I don't know where the brothel or the tavern are, this is a commercial harbour, not Elven floating gardens!"

"Actually we're refugees, we are here to start over." Craig clarified.

The Dwarf remained unimpressed and pointed at a vague direction behind him.

"You'll have to get to the registration office in the city for that. Hope you'll get more than a shack though, we don't have much room left."

"Why, thank you, _kind_ sir." Tweek said bitterly.

They headed for the city, not very pleased at their welcoming committee. The Dwarf city was carved into the surrounding cliffs and mountains with narrow streets coming up the slopes. Beneath were several marketplaces and wider streets where Dwarfs and foreigners alike went about their daily business. Further into the lands, tall walls were linking two mountains together, delimiting the northern borders of the city.

However, it was nearly impossible for the couple to find the building the Dwarf was talking about earlier. Craig couldn't read the wooden signs hanging around the buildings for they were written in Dwarven runes, whereas Tweek could decipher but still, there was simply no sign of the registration office. In desperation, Tweek swallowed back his timidity and apprehensions and went to a Dwarf stallholder on the market place.

"Excuse me sir, could you show us the way to the registration office please?" the blond tried to explain with his best Garahz.

Upon hearing his own language, the merchant's face, at first rather dark, brightened suddenly. He stepped forward and opened his arms like he was welcoming long distance relatives.

"Manling! You speak good ol' Garahz! And a rather good Garahz too!"

"Well, uhm, yes, I've been learning it for some time now..."

"It's so rare to see a foreigner interested in our ways! Usually you all think we've simply vanished from this earth!"

Craig and Tweek exchanged an awkward look.

"I'll bring you to the office, Umgies, follow me!"

They left the marketplace and followed their new guide through the streets until they reached a double door made of bronze with runic inscriptions on it.

"There you are manlings. Good luck in there, bureaucracy and all that..."

"Thank you very much sir, we wouldn't have made it without your help." Tweek shook his hand vigorously.

"Ah, pleasure is all mine. Are you going to stay around?"

"Yes, we would like to live here. The continent is...no longer an option for us." Craig dismissed.

"Ay, just like us a long time ago...you'll like it here, weather's good. Plenty of ways to earn good money. Well, speaking of money, I need to get back to my shop. Have a good day!"

Their guide left them to their business. Craig took hold of Tweek's hand.

"Ready?"

"Yeah, let's go."

O.O.O.O.O

(7)

"Lord Cartman, miss Turner has arrived."

"Ah, very good, let her in."

The servant left and Heidi took his place in the room, closing the door behind her. Upon his return, Cartman had taken Craig's old office. The candles lighting the place were giving off an aura of conspiration and secret, what better sensation for the one who was pulling all the strings?

As soon as Heidi was in sight, he got up and embraced her. The girl was by far the only person Cartman had showed affection to; they knew each other since they were children. The Huntress was also the only person to call him Eric while theorically being an outsider.

"You've done a perfect job once again, I've heard!" he greeted her.

"Just a werewolf, nothing out of the ordinary."

Cartman chuckled and invited her to sit at his desk. He took back his own seat, resting his clutches on the side.

"How's your leg doing?"

"I have gangrene. They'll have to cut it off or I won't survive much longer..."

"Sorry to hear that."

"Well, I don't need my leg to do what I have to do. McCormick sure won't survive when I'll cut his head off."

He took a sealed letter which was resting on his desk and held it out to his friend.

"I have an important mission for you. I think you will like it." he told with a smile.

"I'm all ears."

"I want you to go to Redfield. There, you will give this letter to Bebe Stevens and ask to stay in the city for a very important mission of the Witch Hunters. You see, I'm almost certain that her husband Clyde Donovan is...a necromancer."

Heidi's expression darkened upon hearing the words. Everything related to the undead triggered a reaction of pure disgust and hatred in her. Whether Cartman didn't pay attention or deliberately ignored her somber mood, he continued his briefing:

"Who knows what he is doing between those walls? Plotting our downfall to avenge his old friend Craig Tucker, certainly. Can you imagine an army of the dead marching on Kingsrock? These nefarious plans cannot come to fruition. Clyde is the primary target, but search for any accomplices. You will be the judge, jury and executioner."

"Very well. When do I leave?"

"A carriage will be waiting for you tomorrow morning. You will go alone, others will only slow you down."

"You always know what's best for me, don't you?"

Cartman nodded with a smile. He walked her to the door but before she could leave, he put his hand on her shoulder.

"You are the best of the best, Heidi, and I know you will succeed. Your parents would be proud."

Heidi gave a feeble smile in return.

"Thank you, Eric."

The next morning, Cartman watched the carriage leave the city from his balcony.

The Tweaks and the Tuckers had fallen. The Donovans and the Blacks were next on the list.

 


	2. The Hydra's Heads

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm updating this one a bit earlier because I won't be available this week end!  
> Also lowkey because I'm really excited eh  
> Soundtrack:  
> 1: Dark Sorceries (Total War: Warhammer 2 Soundtrack)  
> 2: Isha's Blessing (Total War: Warhammer 2 Soundtrack)  
> 3: Valor Of Ages (Total War: Warhammer 2 Soundtrack)  
> 4: The Sundering (Total War: Warhammer 2 Soundtrack)  
> 5: Children Of Ulthuan (Total War: Warhammer 2 Soundtrack)  
> 6: The Elder Scrolls III - Morrowind Soundtrack - 04 Over The Next Hill  
> 7: Witch King (Total War: Warhammer 2 Soundtrack)

(1)

Since his arrival in the Dominion, Stan had witnessed many great and strange things; but what he was about to see would certainly be one of the strangest.

Once the Elven host was back to Hollowind, the High Elf capital, its leaders quickly disappeared inside the tree-palace at the center of the city. Kyle was leading the way, and as it was now his main task, Stan followed him. They both entered a narrow but tall hexagonal room centered on a pool of water. Tall windows let thin layers of light through.

Stan was about to ask his friend what they were about to do until a procession of mages entered the room. Behind them, the corpse of Kevin was floating behind them, following their every move. It landed smoothly in the water and the mages, being 6, placed themselves at every corner of the room, as if waiting for something.

“What’s going on?” Stan finally asked.

“We are going to cast a ritual. If anything goes right, Kevin will be brought back.” Kyle answered.

“What?! You can bring back people from the dead?”

“Technically, yes…but Kevin isn’t really “dead” right now.”

He took the jade amulet in his palm. The runes on it were still glowing with a malevolent aura.

“Before dying, Kevin has casted his soul into this amulet to prevent it from leaving the mortal realm, as you are not completely dead until your soul has reached the Plains of Light. So it means we can bring him back.”

“We still need him?”

Kyle raised an eyebrow, surprised at the hint of annoyance in the human’s voice. He did not comment on it though.

“Yes, his help is paramount in finding the Stick of Truth.”

Stan hummed half-heartedly in approval and let the prince of Zaron step behind the pool. He put the amulet above Kevin’s head, on the water, and commanded his colleagues with a wave to begin the ritual. This was the first time Kyle was attempting such a spell, but he had confidence in his abilities. Nearly a century of studying magic was more than enough.

The Elven mages knelt and began to chant incantations. Kyle raised his staff and his eyes took a bright, unnatural blue glow. He froze in this position as the chants came to a stop. He wasn’t there anymore; or rather, his mind was gone. The High Elf prince had established a connection with the amulet. His body was the vessel while his mind wandered the magical trinket.

Kyle found himself into a purple abyss, walking on a thin layer of water. Further away, what looked like a huge crystalline pillar was standing in defiance to the void. The redhead approached and noticed a shadowy figure restrained on the pillar. It was covered in chains and rusty padlocks and every one of those had a rune on them.

“I never thought I would see you in such a poor state!” said the elf upon recognizing Kevin.

The dark mage was missing whole parts of his body; mainly the ones his brother took out while killing him. Instead, a strange black aura was emanating from where there should have been flesh and bone, that is almost half of his body, especially the left one.

“I never thought I would have to suffer your wits in such a place.” Kevin talked back.

“I will ask the Dreleryn smiths to forge you an enchanted armor, but still…”

“I won’t return as strong as I was, I know,” he cut him off, “no matter, I yearn to get out of this place.”

“It will be done, my friend, I’ll see to it.”

The connection was severed and Kyle reentered his own body, slightly dazed. Stan went to him and helped him back on his feet.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, yes I am,” he reassured him, “someone get me a Runesmith here, hurry!”

The mages went outside to carry on the orders. Stan faced his friend.

“You’re lying. Something troubles you, I can tell.”

Kyle sighed with a smile.

“I can’t hide anything from you anymore, can I? No, something is off…about Kevin. It was certainly the effect of the ritual, but still, I could feel something odd about his essence. Like it was deeply disturbed…and disturbing.”

“Kyle, I’ve found that guy disturbing since I met him.”

“Well I suppose I can’t blame you…”

“We should talk about it later. For now, I think you need to rest.”

“You’re right…let’s have a break.”

They both left the room for their quarters. Stan had kept the room in which he had awoken the very day of his arrival. Instead of staying there, the young man decided to have a walk in one of the many gardens of the palace. Since they were on balconies, one had always a stunning view on the sprawling city beneath. Those gardens were perfect for mainly two things: Eldeyn court intrigues and taking a trip down memory lane, and that’s precisely what Stan wanted to do.

His memories of his first days in Zaron were still vivid in his mind.

O.O.O.O.O

 _Three months ago_ _(2)_

Stan had to spend most of his time with the High Elf prince, which seemed to tolerate his presence more than anything else.

Shortly after the human’s arrival, Gerald had ordered his son to take command of an army and to march North, where he would meet the joined Eldeyn and Dreleryn armies of Cynath Ytha, the northernmost province of the Dominion. There, they would dispatch the Sardacians, a group of nomadic human tribes that were ravaging the countryside. Kyle would have to take Stan with him.

The night before, another human came to the High Elf court: Kevin McCormick, former heir of Highcastle. As Kyle explained to his new protégé, Kevin had been raised in Zaron since childhood to become the Dominion’s spy in Telos. Impressed by his exceptional magical abilities, he also followed the teachings of several Elven mages and became without a doubt one, if not the most powerful magic user of Mankind.

Stan didn’t like him one bit. There was something deeply unnerving about the man: something primal and evil that he couldn’t hide despite his manners and cold politeness. Yet Kyle seemed to appreciate him, oddly enough.

They left the gleaming towers and spires of Hollowind in the morning and marched North. Kyle’s army numbered around 9,000 High Elves; 4,000 spearmen, 2,000 archers, 1,000 horsemen and 2,000 First Sons of Zaron, an elite heavy infantry unit bearing axes.

The plains of Zaron had taken an orange taint as autumn had arrived once more. The mountains in the background only added to the majesty of the scenery. Here and there, little farms or huge domains centered on a villa dotted the countryside, with their fields of wheat or vineyards. Once they arrived in Cynath Ytha however, the landscape became more barren, a frozen tundra dotted with mountains and forests of pine trees. The cold gave a nasty sting, far more than the tempered southern provinces.

The capital of the province and seat of Lord Erylin’s court was the city of Cair Galri in the Southern part of the realm. The city had tall stone walls to protect itself from the many dangers of the Northern plains. Once Kyle and his troops arrived there, a messenger telling them that Lord Erilyn had marched to the North West to relieve a small town attacked by the Sardacians was their only welcoming committee. The Prince decided to march forth, but not before his troops had been given a chance to eat and rest for a moment. The citizens were glad to offer their services and supplies to the soldiers who were protecting them. After a little while, the troops resumed their journey.

“Kyle, why is there so many Dark Elves here? I thought they lived in the East of the Dominion…” Stan asked on the way, unable to quell his curiosity.

“Cynath Ytha has been settled by both High and Dark Elves. It’s a project to bring our two races closer to each other.”

“You mean you don’t like each other?”

“There are…disagreements. The Dreleryn retained much – too much – of our Drow Elves ancestors’ traits. We raised above our instincts to achieve perfection and complete control of our bodies and soul but as a result, we often clash with the fiery temper of our cousins. Especially when it comes to decisions regarding their own lands.”

“You decide for them?”

“The great room where we first met was the Chamber of Lords, where all Eldeyn, Dreleryn and Esrei lords come to debate and vote laws. While everyone is given a voice, the last word is always the Mage King’s – that is my father.”

“So if I understand clearly, the Dark Elves do not like you because you give them a voice in your assembly, but that voice has no weight because in the end the power is held by the Mage King –who is always a High Elf if I recall.”

“Yes tha—wait that’s not what I meant!”

“It sure sounded like it though.”

Kyle reacted as if a bee had stung him.

“I’m sure our politics may seem _complicated_ to more simple beings like Humans, but the results speak for themselves; we are the greatest on this continent and perhaps the world.” he said, obviously offended.

Stan didn’t answer and simply rolled his eyes. There was no point in an argument with Kyle – as with all High Elves. They were always right, no matter what. Not even Craig could get this high on the scale of arrogance.

O.O.O.O.O

(3)

Tall columns of smoke could be seen from afar, blackening the pale blue sky.

When Kyle and his troops arrived at the town, there were already too late; the inhabitants laid butchered everywhere, while their houses were consumed by the flames, emptied of any riches they might have held. Worse: many corpses were those of soldiers bearing the blue and yellow colors of Cynath Ytha, and no sign of Lord Erylin...

Little groups of survivors soon emerged from the ruins. Men, women and children who were terrified, as if the enemy was still surrounding them.

“My Lord! We must flee, the hordes will return!” one of them implored the High Elf prince.

“You have nothing left to fear, commoner, the host of Zaron has come to take the fight to the barbarians.” Kyle announced in return.

The survivors were about to retort but the sound of war horns in the distance and a growing tremor sent them screaming back to their ruined hovels. Over the hills, war cries and thundering hooves were growing closer by the second.

“Eldeyn! Form phalanx! Make ready to repel the barbarians!”

“HAI!”

Obeying the command of their prince, the spearmen formed their shieldwall, spears resting on top of their shields. Behind them, the archers stood ready to deliver death from afar. The First Sons of Zaron stood in reserve behind the city and the Elven cavalry covered the right flank.

Kyle and Stan dismounted as the wave of enemy horsemen rolled down the hills. They were thousands of screaming nomads armed with spears, axes, bows and crescent-shaped swords.

“There are so many of them! They're going to trample us!” Stan exclaimed.

“They are indeed far more than I expected, but nothing we can't deal with. ARCHERS, ON MY COMMAND!”

“HAI!”

The archers knocked and aimed at the incoming horde.

“LOOSE!”

Bowstrings cracked as hundreds of arrows darted to the skies. Kyle uttered words of power and raised his staff, the tip burning with a bright arcane flame. Almost immediately, each and every arrow caught fire and fell to the ground in a blazing cascade that mowed down hundreds of horsemen.

(4)

With another incantation and another wave of his staff, this time glowing with pure high magic, the mage prince imbued his frontline with nearly-unbreakable courage and lightened the weight of their gear.

Finally, the screaming horde charged the Elven line with unrelenting violence, pushing the shield wall back. The Eldeyn spearmen retaliated and thrusted their spears into the belly of men and horses alike. The remaining Sardacians, on foot, lightly armed with axes, swords and covered in furs and leather armors quickly followed and filled the holes left by the cavalry charge. Overall, the defenders were holding fast, but the battle was far from being won.

“Stan, go fetch the reserves and reinforce our left flank! Go!” Kyle commanded while shoving what looked like an ivory horn into his hands.

The young man obeyed and ran to the backlines. There, he took a deep breath and blew the war horn three times, revealing his position.

“FIRST SONS OF ZARON! TO THE FRAY!”

Hundreds of plate-covered warriors, wearing a white linen cloak and long helmets with a red crest charged through the plain with a deafening war cry. The first one to reach the front lines cleaved their foe in half with their great axes. Stan himself joined the battle and made short work of three nomads with his two-handed sword. However, his attention was soon caught by a band of Sardacians breaking off the fight and entering the ruins of the town. The survivors!

In all haste, Stan left the frontlines and Kyle noticed it almost immediately.

“What are you doing?! The fight is that way!”

“The Sardacians are entering the town! They will outflank us!”

“You are needed on the left flank, not OUT of the battle!”

“I'm sorry Kyle but you'll thank me later!”

“WAIT!”

Too late. Stan was already gone. Kyle was about to bring him back but a javelin landed at his feet.

“Why are Humans so impervious to authority?!” he cursed under his breath.

A dozen of Sardacian warriors were coming right for him, bloodied axes in hand.

“FEAR MY WORDS! _CEYL SAROIR!_ ”

As soon as Kyle had pronounced the mystic words, the Sardacians before him were set ablaze. They collapsed on the floor screaming, until they were completely devoured by the crimson flames.

Another barbarian tried to sneak up on the High Elf and jumped on him, ready to stab him in the back. Kyle turned around and raised his hand; his enemy immediately froze in his stance like a statue. With another wave from his staff, the mage drew a circle then cut the invisible ropes, catapulting the foe at high speed towards the town. He ended up in red paste as he crashed against a wall.

“ _ELTHRAI CHAROI!”_

The Curse of the Enfeebling Foe sent a dark mist upon the Sardacian battleline; the closer they got to Kyle, the more their strength waned. Already tired by the fierce fighting, some of the warriors had trouble to even lift their weapons and thus were the first to fall to the Eldeyn counter-attack.

As for Stan, he met the second wave of the First Sons who were going to join the battle.

“First Sons! The villagers are in danger! We must go to town before the Sardacians kill all who are left!” he yelled at whoever did not ignore him – not many.

Some of the First Sons stopped in their tracks and threw him dubious glances, then exchanged startled looks.

“Come on! On me!”

A Human? An inferior being commanding some of the finest troops in all the Dominion? Nonsense! And Yet...

“The First Sons never turn down a fight! LEAD US TO GLORY!” a captain finally said.

“TO GLORY!” they yelled in unison.

The warriors followed Stan through the ruined streets of the town until they found a large band of Sardacians attacking the remaining villagers. Upon seeing the Elven troops, they ceased to harass their victims and charged their opponents.

Stan opened the hostilities by running his sword through a tribesman, while the First Sons put their axes to work all around him. Another barbarian attacked but the Rainlander parried and beheaded him with a large swing of his claymore. It was at that moment that he saw a family of Dark Elves being pushed against a wall by a group of Sardacians. The nomads had slew the First Son that had stood in their way and the man, the woman and their two children were next on the list.

The young man felt a fire engulfing his whole body, before he could even think of a strategy, he was charging the pillagers with a piercing war cry. One of them could not react in time as he was slain by his foe's claymore. Two of his companions attacked; the first one swung his sword but Stan ducked and chopped his left leg off, causing him to fall on the ground screaming and holding his bloody half of leg that was left. The other one gave a flurry of blows to his opponent but the latter deflected each of them, and with a graceful spin, he sliced the barbarian in half.

There was only one left; the apparent chief of the party for he had many trinkets hanging from his furs and a horned helmet. Without further ado, he charged the other human, bashing him with his round shield. Stan bent but did not break, he recovered his balance and counter-attacked swiftly but was unable to gain any advantage. Worse; during his last attack, his enemy blocked the blow but then knocked him in the face with his shield. Stan fell on his back and lost grip of his sword. The barbarian chieftain took a step forward and smirked sadistically. He lifted his axe to struck the coup de grâce.

Stan rolled and grabbed the axe of the fallen First Son whose corpse was laying next to him. In a matter of second, the Rainlander was back on his feet and lowered the axe on his opponent, cleaving his head in twain.

Cries of joy filled the ruins. The Sardacians were dead, and those who were not had fled.

On the battlefield, the barbarians had also been routed and running for the hills, where their camp was located.

“RIDERS! BRING THEM THE WRATH OF ZARON!”

The Elven horsemen answered the call and spurred their horses. Most of them were from the southern kingdom of Amariel, an Eldeyn province that fielded the most skilled light cavalrymen in all of the Dominion. In battle, they carried either bows or spears and were protected by a scale mail and a conic helmet adorned with two large feathers.

The swift riders mowed down the fleeing nomads and proceeded to wreak havoc in the raider's camp. The raiders were now the raided, how ironic.

O.O.O.O.O

(5)

“Lord Erylin! You were there all along.”

The ruler of Cynath Ytha had just been freed by the riders of Amariel and brought to Kyle. He and some of his men had been captured and brought to the Sardacian camp, where they would surely have been sold to slavery in the far East.

“A million blessings to you, My Prince!” he nearly threw himself at Kyle's feet, “I am now in your debt, but please, would you be so kind as to...forget the part where I have been captured when you report to His Majesty?”

Kyle remained silent, considering the proposition. Eventually, a smirk curved his lips.

“Very well, My Lord. My father won't know anything about your _dishonor_ but I want you to obey me from now on. The next time I will ask you something, whatever it might be, you will obey. Is that clear?”

“Oh yes My Prince! Very clear!”

Kyle left him, only to stumble upon the celebrating first Sons of Zaron and the remaining villagers. He eventually spotted Stan, who was at the center of the rejoicing retinue.

“What is going on here?”

“The Human is a hero, My Prince!” a rescued villager answered, “he has saved us all!”

“Did he?”

Stan reunited with him. He could see that a black eye would soon form around his right eye.

“You disobeyed to save innocent lives. I never thought you wo– ”

“You never thought I would risk my life for your kin, because I'm just a Human, right?” he cut him off.

For the first time since he had met his companion, Kyle lowered his gaze, apparently ashamed of himself.

“I apologize. You were right and proved it today. Since you've been here, you have acted in a way that I do not usually recognize in your race. You have a noble spirit.”

Kyle left his eyes wander. The town had been wiped out and its denizens slaughtered, the Sardacians had showed once more that they were ruthless savages. Yet Stan was also a Human, and a good hearted one. Superior beings like the Eldeyn should be able to grasp the nature of the other races, so why did the prince feel conflict in his heart?

“I cannot forgive Men from what they have done to us...I still consider them as barbarians...but you are different, Stan. I respect you and shall never belittle you again. I hope that we can better understand each other from now on.

He held his hand to him. Stan smiled and shook it, knowing that it would be the nicest thing Kyle could possibly say about a Man.

And he didn’t know why this was so important to him, but he found himself relieved and happy to be that Man.

O.O.O.O.O

(6)

After Kyle’s successful campaign, the Frozen Shore could finally have some peace and quiet.

However, the same could not be said for the Eldeyn court. A lavish ball had been thrown to celebrate Kyle’s victory against the Northern barbarians and the whole palace echoed with music and laughter. During these feasts, the Elves would drink wine, eat the finest meals, dance and recite epic poetry celebrating the great deeds of their people.

Stan was feeling even more foreign and awkward than usual; he was not used to the endless streams of compliments and platitudes that Gerald, Sheila and Kyle were getting from every powdered aristocrat who got in their way. Stan, on the other hand, was mostly getting side-glances and hasty greetings. Sometimes, he would get most indiscreet and lingering glances, like he was some kind of weird, exotic animal on display.

As the sun set and as the feasting hall was filled with orange rays of light, everyone cleared the floor; it was time for the Mage King and the Queen to dance. While the guests were watching religiously, Kyle noticed the apparent discomfort of his friend and joined him on the balcony.

The air was getting colder, but the young man did not seem to care at all. He didn’t notice the newcomer, for he was deeply engrossed in admiring the sunset. The white towers and buildings with red tile roofs and the large plazas were basked in the rays of the fading sun.

“Beautiful view, isn’t it?”

“Yes, you can be proud of your cities. I guess you are.”

Kyle couldn’t hold a chuckle at that snarky comment.

“There’s no point in denying the truth,” he admitted after taking a seat, “these clothes suit you really well. You look like an ambassador.”

The Rainlander had been given a white silk tunic held by a thin leather belt and azure pants with polished boots. As for Kyle, he had swapped his usual red robes for night blue shirt and pants with little stars of gold embedded in the fabric.

Stan smiled at the compliment, not daring to say that this “exquisite elven tunic of superior quality” was actually incredibly itchy.

“Thanks, you look quite good yourself.”

“Is everything alright? I’ve noticed you spend a lot of time on the balcony.”

“Well…I’ve never been too fond of parties. Besides, I think most of the guests don’t want to speak to me.”

Kyle was saddened to hear that.

“I guess the aristocracy is unaware of who you are. They acted the same way the first time my brother was at court.”

Stan, who had been looking the sunset until then, turned to look at his friend.

“You have a brother?”

“Yes, I do. Do you want to meet him? He often stays in his quarters, he doesn’t like parties, just like you.”

“Sure, let’s go!”

 _Finally a way out_ , Stan thought with relief. He followed the redhead through the room, then through the corridors of the palace until they reached the upper levels. There, they stopped in front of a door that looked exactly like the others. Kyle knocked, announcing their presence before coming in.

“Ike, I’d like to introduce you to someone.”

“Who?”

Stan and Ike’s eyes met and they both stopped dead in their tracks, astonished to meet another Human. Ike must have been around thirteen years old, judging by the form of his face. He had big brown eyes and short black hair, quite like Stan himself.

“Ike, this is Stan, a friend who comes from Telos, just like you.”

“I’m…pleased to meet you. Sorry if I do not seem so, I’m really surprised to see another man in Zaron.”

“The same goes for me. I’m sorry if that is indiscreet to ask but…how can you be Kyle’s brother if you are of different races?”

“My parents adopted me when I was still a baby. I was the only survivor of an Orc raid on a small town. The Elven commanders did not care about me, but the King found me and he took me in.”

“They…would have left you to die?”

Kyle side-glanced Stan. Uncomfortable questions were always the quickest to arise. Ike on the other hand didn’t flinch.

“Yes, why would they take in a human child? But they have been punished, because now I’m part of the royal family, so they have to respect me!”

The last words had been spoken with such excitement and delight that Stan couldn’t help but smile.

“And you? Why are you here?”

“I’m here to help Kyle in his missions.” he avoided the topic.

“Oh, that’s great!”

The boy was talkative. They spent much time together in his room to talk about how he was raised in the Elven ways. Despite his young age, the boy was perfectly bilingual; he switched from Eldeyn to Telosian with ease. Stan and Kyle left when the sky was dark.

“He’s a good little guy,” Stan said, “I won’t lie, I think he is far more intelligent and interesting that half of your parent’s court.”

“More than half of it,” Kyle rectified with a sigh, “I’m happy you two met. Maybe it will do him good to see someone like him.”

Stan raised his eyebrows at the statement.

“You say that like he has some sort of illness.”

“No, that’s not what I meant. You see, most of the nobles here still don’t accept a Human living here and when I’m gone he’s on his own…”

“Don’t your parents have a say in this?”

“Of course they do, and they love Ike as much as I do. However, the power of my father is getting more and more challenged. He is trying to keep the Dominion together and his policies do not have the support of everyone, quite the contrary.”

“I see…”

Something seemed to trouble the Rainlander, but he didn’t expand on the matter.

“Should we return to the party?” he said to change subjects.

“We can, or I can teach you how to read the stars.”

“You can do that? Wait, forget it, stupid question.”

“I guess it will be astromancy, then.”

O.O.O.O.O

(7)

_Present day_

Once more, the mages had reunited to cast a ritual. Earlier that morning, Kevin's body had been taken to the forge, when Dreleryn Runesmiths had forged a set of enchanted armor made of the hardest meteoric iron, destined to cover the damaged parts of his body.

Like before, the mages recited incantations of power. Kyle, at the center of the pool, raised his staff, and the water began to boil with fell energy. Gusts of wind swept through the room and lightning roared in an indoor storm. Stan was thrown against the wall when a loud explosion occurred, leaving a cloud of purple smoke to engulf the room. After a moment, the smoke faded and Stan got back on his feet, only to see the result of the ritual standing before him.

Kevin was back. The left par of his body was almost entirely covered by his new black armor, while a mask was covering the left half of his face, safe for his mouth and his eye. The skin around those parts was damaged, as if it had been burned several times over.

“Finally, I was getting tired of that rock,” the dark mage spoke up, “I suppose I must thank you.”

“There is no need to. Now that you are back, the search for the Stick of Truth can resume.” Kyle answered.

“Hmph, straight to the point as always. What did I miss?”

Stan felt a shiver run down his spine. Kevin's aura was even more disturbing than in his previous life, and his new set of armor didn't help. He threw a glance at Kyle, who didn't seem to care at all.

“Craig has been overthrown. Telos is now ruled by Marjorine alone, with the assistance of Cartman, and the Dominion has reasserted its control over Mediflumina.”

“And what about the Stick?”

“We have located the third piece of the map. It is buried beneath Kingsrock.”

Kevin let out a little laugh.

“Then I guess it's time to pay the Queen a state visit.”


	3. Rebirth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Third chapter go!  
> Soundtrack:  
> 1: The Sith Lords - Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic II soundtrack  
> 2: TES V Skyrim Soundtrack - Under an Ancient Sun  
> 3: 06 Winterfell - Game of Thrones Season 2 - Soundtrack  
> 4: Faroe Isle - Skellige Exploration 8  
> 5: The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt OST - The Fields of Ard Skellig (Extended)  
> 6: Islander's Valour - Skellige Combat 6  
> 7: The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt OST (Unreleased Tracks) - Ard Skellig Village

(1)

Kenny did not remember how he ended up in this hellish landscape.

Everything was on fire. The trees were turning black and crevasses were spitting streams of crimson flames. Even the sky had turned a deep red, the moon, a fiery orb that seemed ready to devour the Earth. Black clouds were spinning at high speed like they were stuck in a vortex. The air was filled with ashes and other terrible smells that burned the blond’s lungs with every breath. He could almost feel his flesh melt away from his bones, but his heart froze at the sight of Kevin, alive and well, a few feet away from him. At his feet, dozens of corpses burnt to a crisp, barely recognizable.

“We were expecting you.”

“…?”

“Your friends.”

He pointed at the corpses. Kenny collapsed on his knees and screamed atop his lungs, but no sound came out. Kevin pointed at each corpse and named them.

“Mother. Father. Alex. Tweek...”

“STOP!” he yelled silently.

“Craig, Clyde, Token…”

“STOP IT! I BEG YOU STOP!”

Even if his pleas had remained silent, Kevin complied. His hand was soon filled with lightning and he took a step forward, towering over his powerless brother.

“I will grant you your wish. It is what you want, isn’t it? To be with our dearest sister again.”

He raised his hand and all went black.

Kenny took a deep breath and woke up panting and sweating. A few candles were still lit in the bedroom.

“Kenny? Are you alright?”

It must have been either very late in the night or very early in the morning, for Alex was still reading on the chair near the window, surrounded by molten candles. It took a moment for Kenny to calm down, catch his breath and recognize his surroundings.

“I…I had a nightmare. A pretty bad one.”

“Tell me something I don’t know, dear,” the brunet commented while sitting on the bed next to him.

“Kevin…he…slaughtered all of you...I was forced to watch.”

“Our mind seems to enjoy torturing us, sometimes. But Kevin is dead now, you killed him yourself.”

“I know…but he is still there…It's as if he was still there somehow, waiting to strike me when I least expect it.”

“It takes time to fully recover from such events…But there is nothing time can't heal. Try not to worry too much, alright?”

Alex embraced Kenny and held him tightly against him, peppering his cheek with soft kisses.

“You are the strongest man I know. There is nothing you can’t overcome.”

“Mh...”

Kenny remained somber. He took a quick glance at the pile of books and grimoires on the desk and next to Alex’s favorite armchair, near the hearth.

“You are still reading? At this hour?”

“Only the ones next to me. I’ll send the others to Tweek. I think he’ll need some reading or he’ll bore himself to death with only Craig around.”

Kenny had a little laugh. His lover’s snarky comments never failed to amuse him.

“And how will you do that?”

“I can teleport objects.”

“You can do that?”

“I read it some days ago, and I am a quick learner.”

“That’s great, now how about putting that great mind to rest for a while and teleport next to me, hm?”

“Hm, fine…that’s because you ask nicely.”

“I always do, blueberry.”

With a hand wave, the brunet sent a cold breeze snuff out the candles, then joined his lover for the rest of the night.

O.O.O.O.O

(2)

It was a nice winter morning in Highcastle: the sky had taken a warm pink taint as the sun slowly rose. Only thin clouds were moving at a slow pace up above, safe for the mountain peaks, perpetually shrouded in mist. The snowy mantle covering the land sparkled under the rising sun.

The North was far from the turmoil that had spread South immediately after Marjorine’s rise to power.

The calm reigning in this part of the country was one of the things Alex appreciated the most in his new home. He could meditate and study the arcane arts as long as he wanted, and that is precisely what he had always been looking for.

Another day of peace and quiet.

While Alex loved to spend time in the library, what he enjoyed the most was to go for a walk in the mountains early in the morning. It was indeed a most useful thing, to be immune to the harsh weather.

That morning, like usual, Alex had put on his navy blue cloak and turned up the collar to protect his lips from the freezing wind. Inside his backpack, several tomes he had yet to explore. He already had a good spot in mind; where he could sit and read while enjoying a breathtaking view at the same time.

As he made his way up the mountain and through the snowy cliffs, a soft breeze was blowing the powdered snow, making it fly in the air like incense vapors.

Sometimes, Alex felt the need to have a learning partner. Now that Tweek was away, he would have to dive alone in the mysteries of magic. Even if he was perfectly fine with that most of the time, it was always good to share the same passion with someone. Kenny wasn't interested in the least in the arcane, like most Nords. Token was more of a regular scholar, taking interest in the mundane world rather than the invisible forces influencing it. As for Clyde... Alex didn't know if he was interested in studying his gift more in depth. Even if that was the case, how could he? Necromancy wasn't kindly regarded by most. Still, he would have to talk about it with the other brunet. Besides, that goofball was kind of cute when under pressure.

If only Karen were still there. If only he could have done something.

But with 'ifs' one could reshape the entire world, and what-if scenarios were not what they needed at the moment. They needed to tend to their wounds and prepare for the coming hardships. It was only a matter of time before Marjorine, Cartman or the Elves would come to seek retribution for the death of Kevin.

Quite ironic, Alex thought, for Elves to seek vengeance for a Human. He decided to lighten up his mood by contacting his brother.

 _Tweek, are you there?_ He reached telepathically.

 _Yes Alex? Are you alright?_ The voice of the blond echoed back.

_We've seen better. Kenny's mood is still dark most of the time. There's some sort of lethargy around town, I don't like it._

_Gosh, that sounds bad..._

_The good news is that the situation can only improve. How are you and Craig doing?_

_We have moved in in an old Dwarfen house. It's really fascinating and quite comfy. I like it, even if I'm still sad to have left. Craig tends to brood a lot, he feels like he has lost everything._

_Well, that's not very far from the truth..._

_Alex!_

_Sorry. It slipped. Does he treat you well?_

_Of course he does! In fact, he's much more considerate and affectionate than before now that we don't have to hide._

_Good, I'll take solace from that. Tell him that if he's a jerk with you, I'll find him and freeze his ass on the spot._

_Er...Alright._

_I'm sending you some books that I've already read. You should like them, they should appear near you anytime from now._

With a flick of his fingers, the pile of tomes vanished into thin air. At that moment, Alex felt a disturbance in the winds. Something was going on downtown.

_I'll be going now. Take care of yourself, brother._

_You too, brother, thank you for the books._

Alex cut the mental link and got up, ready to go back to town. However, his magic senses alerted him of a second disturbance coming from the other way around, from deep within the mountains. It was moving fast, too fast for him to pinpoint its direction.

A distant shriek echoed through the mountains. It was distant, but still recognizable.

“Oh please, no more dragons...”

The roars were growing closer. Soon, a large winged beast emerged from behind the snowy peaks and flew straight towards the mage. The sun made its golden scales shine bright, while the wind howled with every swap of its wings.

The dragon slowed his pace and landed in front of Alex, causing a little quake that almost sent the brunet on his buttocks.

It was at that moment that he noticed that the dragon was one-eyed, a scar covering the spot where its left eye should have been. And so he realized.

“Two? Is that you?”

The dragon emitted a muffled sound in approval. It laid down on the cold rock and deployed its right wing, revealing a dozen of arrows stuck in it. The arrows were covered in dried blood.

“You've been in trouble, haven't you?” the mage said, stepping forward to take a closer look, “Those aren't of Elven design...too crude...”

As if to answer the brunet's questions, Two lifted its head and turned its gaze to the North East.

“Hm...that is still Elven territory, weird...however we must heal those wounds before they get infected.”

Alex turned around and took a few steps down the road leading back to town. If dragons could display human reactions, Two would have certainly showed incredulity. The brunet turned back, putting his arms on his hips in a patronizing way.

“So? Are you coming? I can't heal you if you stay high up here.”

Two seemed to understand what was at stake. With a powerful leap, he took off and flew circles above his human friend, following him from the skies.

O.O.O.O.O

(3)

Lord Stuart was on the mend. After several weeks spent in bed, the Jarl of Highcastle had almost completely recovered from his injuries. He often went for strolls with his wife or his son around the castle walls, enjoying conversations like never before. That morning, it was Kenny that was with his father. It is often said that tragedy strengthens bonds, and it was definitely the case there.

“You will soon be able to resume your official duties,” Kenny pointed out as they stopped on top of the walls.

“Yes but listening to peasants all day...I'll soon come to regret the days I was laying in bed with nothing do to!”

They both laughed heartily, something they had not done in a while. Stuart retook a serious look but his gaze remained lost in the distance.

“I am considering stepping down.”

Kenny stared at him with wide eyes, stunned by the abrupt news. Stuart burst out laughing once more.

“Oh thank the gods you weren't serious...”Kenny sighed in relief.

“I am extremely serious, you idiot!”

“But why?!”

“I'm getting old, Kenny.”

“But you are still fit to rule and in good health.”

Stuart let out a sigh and turned towards his son, locking eyes with him.

“We are facing challenging times. I've already seen countless battles and barely got out of my last. The North needs its best to lead it to victory.”

He grabbed his son by his shoulders.

“You are the pride of this house, of the whole country. You need only say a word and the other jarls will bow their head to you, for you have showed more than enough that you are a true son of the North. I'm proud of you, son, we all are.”

Kenny's eyes watered.

“I couldn't save Karen...”

“Yet you have saved countless others that day. Wherever she is now, Karen is proud of her big brother, as she always was. She will never disappear as long as we remember her. And _The North..._

“ _Remembers.”_ he finished as a single tear rolled down his cheek, “Thank you, father.”

Someone cleared his throat behind them, catching their attention.

“My apologies My Lords, but a raven has arrived from the capital.”

The Maester held out the scrap of paper to Stuart.

“Oh, the maple leaf...it looks like the Queen has finally decided to make her move.” Kenny commented.

_Her Majesty Marjorine Stotch, first of her name, True Queen of Telos, of the realms of men and Protector of Mankind, Defender of the Faith, Four times blessed, Righter of Wrongs and Destroyer of Forsworns_

_Hereby orders the bastard Douchebag to be brought to the capital for interrogation and attend trial on the following charges:_

_Conspiracy to overthrow the Queen_

_Help given to the fugitives Craig Tucker and Tweek Tweak_

_Perjury_

_Blasphemy and deviant tastes_

_Shall he not be present by the end of First Seed, the North will face the consequences of open rebellion against the crown._

_Eric Cartman, Hand of the Queen_

_“_ Lil' cunt sure knows how to bark.” Stuart grumbled.

(4)

Before they could dive further into the matter, the alarm bells rung all over the city.

“I sure hope the Elves didn't teleport her army to our doors already.”

The sight of a great winged creature above the castle gave him the information he needed.

“Oh no not again! I WANT EVERY ARCHER AVAILABLE TO STAND READY!”

“It's landing near the keep!”

Without further ado, Kenny grabbed a sword and ran towards the spot with a cohort of archers behind them. They were surprised to see the dragon standing still next to Alex, as if waiting patiently for them to show up.

“Alex what are you doing with a dragon?!” Kenny shouted at him.

“Calm down, it's Kevin's second dragon, the one who tried to help us. He's harmless and wounded, so I'll patch him up.”

Kenny gave him a incredulous glare.

“A dragon is anything but harmless! What are you going to do with it once it's healed?”

“Well I don't know yet, but if he likes me, a dragon can always come in handy.”

“You're going to keep him as some exotic pet?!”

Alex shrugged.

“By the Gods Alex what are you thinking?! It's going to feed on the cattle, on the PEOPLE!”

“Why are you making such a scene?!” he raised his voice, “I'm not going to build him a house in the city, it will stay in the mountains nearby!”

Kenny gave a sour laugh.

“A pet dragon. I've received a letter of threats from Marjorine ordering me to send you to the capital and all you do is get back with a fucking pet dragon.”

“Now you are just being mean.”

“That...thing killed Karen!”

“Your grief is twisting your memories! That dragon attacked Kevin when he was about to kill us all!”

“Whatever it did, I shall not give it the chance of causing anymore harm. KNOCK!”

The archers readied their arrows and aimed at Two who roared in defiance. Alex took a step forward, shield the dragon's head with his body.

“Throw down your weapons. I froze all the bow strings as soon as you were knocking.”

“So you would chose a beast over your own people?!”

“I'm chosing to shield an innoncent from someone who's being maddened by grief and hatred!”

“I am not leaving you alone with a dragon!”

“You can't decide for me.”

“Can't you stop trying to have the last word for a moment?! Why are you always so careless?! Do you think you have a right to be so reckless with our current situation?!”

“Just like losing your sister doesn't give you the right to be a hateful asshole!”

Kenny was at a loss for words, his throat burning like acid. With fists clenched, he turned his back on his lover.

“Just take what you need and go. As long as the dragon is with you, you are barred from entering the city.”

“Fine. Have it your way.”

Alex's skin turned white and his body gradually transformed into snow that was blown away by the wind. Two, following the mage's essence, took off and flew towards the mountains. Kenny let out a frustrated cry before ordering everyone to go home.

Back to his favorite spot on the mountain, Alex's body reformed.

His anger was quick to disappear and let sadness and remorse take its place. Two slithered behind him and laid down like a big puppy at the feet of his master. Dragons were very intelligent creatures and could understand the emotions and reactions of the creatures surrounding them, and at that moment it was sensing a profound distress.

“This is the kind of argument where nobody wins...everything is just...falling apart.”

Tears rolled down his cheeks, freezing into tiny cristals as they crashed on the ground or his clothes.

“I guess we're going to spend the night together.” he said with a feeble smile, face covered in tears.

Two purred in approval.

Down in Highcastle, Kenny's anger had cooled down as well and left him even more miserable than in the morning. He didn't know why he had lost his temper so quickly, but it felt like that had been the straw that broke the camel's back. To see the creature linked to his sister's death only drove him to the edge faster. Why Alex of all people had to suffer from all his built-up tension?

“Why is everything going South, Maester?” he asked suddenly, watching the fire with empty eyes.

“I do not know, My Lord, I do not know.”

“I bet no one does. Maybe I should start praying, after all.”

“My apologies to disturb your reflexions, My Lord, but what will be our response to the Queen's letter?”

Kenny remained silent a moment, pondering the options he had. He quickly noticed that he had no choice at all.

“Tell her to go fuck herself.”

O.O.O.O.O

_A day after Kevin's death and the battle at the castle_

Two regained consciousness and slowly got back up on its rear legs. He extended his slender neck, trying to get a better look at his surroundings. The wind was howling through the grassy plains. In the distance, the only thing to see in the grey sky was the column of black smoke coming from the steaming ruins of the castle.

Suddenly, he felt a pulse nearby. Someone was there, but the vibrations were erratic, growing faint.

He followed the familiar scent and the pulse to eventually find the body of a little girl , hidden in the long grass. Her robes were bloodied, she was unconscious and in bad shape, but alive. However, what could he do? Maybe try to take her to the nearest settlement.

As he asked himself how to hold the child without hurting her further, something sharp stung his left wing and he let out a howl of pain.

Other humans, nomads. They hunted dragons since generations. A few horsemen could not hope to match a dragon, but they could finish off a little and wounded one with ease. Besides, an arrow could hit the girl if it missed.

Without further hesitation, the dragon took off, ignoring the sharp pain spreading in his wings as other arrows stroke him.

“It's flying. Guess we won't have our dragon scale armor after all.” Sighed one of the attackers.

“Of course we won't, your aim is getting sloppy.”

“Tss.”

They were a group of four women, huntresses dressed in leather and fur armor.

“Hey, there's a body here! Hm nope, my bad, there's a pulse.”

“I guess she must have come from the castle. Looks like that fucker's finally got what he deserved.”

“What do we do with her?”

“Take her back to camp. She's on the Khaleesi's domain, so she'll answer to her.”

O.O.O.O.O

(5)

Karen opened her eyes, and the first thing she noticed was the soothing sound of crackling fire next to her. Despite the pounding in her head and the pain burning trough her whole body, she managed to sit straight. She was in a sort of yurt made of leather and furs, supported by a wooden frame. In the middle, a burning fire with a pot, probably for cooking. Spread around were some pieces of furniture, bags of grain and herbs and a small table supporting an alchemist's apparatus.

She was covered in bandages that had a particularly bad smell. However, she had no time to delve into the matter further, for someone had entered the yurt.

It was an old woman who had, Karen thought, as many wrinkles on her forehead as she had hair. Speaking of her hair, they were grey and tied in a small ponytail. She was wearing long red robes, along with a bandolier and many pouches around her waist.

“Ah, finally the little girl is awake!”

“I...where am I?”

“Not so fast, child. You are still very weak. Stay quiet while I replace your bandages, and I'll explain everything to you.”

Karen nodded and the old woman sat on a stool next to the bed. She took hold of some linen bands and a pair of cisors, as well as a little vial filled with an unknown liquid.

“You were on the verge of dying when we found you back there. We brought you here and we are making sure you are back to full health. It has been three days now, and your broken bones are completely repaired.”

“You did that all by yourself?” the girl couldn't help but ask.

Her elder had a little laugh and gave her a warm smile.

“I may be old, but an alchemist only gets better with age!”

The little one repressed a moan of pain when the old lady applied a smelling poultice on her wounds.

“Once you're back on your feet, you will talk with our Khaleesi.”

“The ruler of the great grass sea?”

“Oh, so you've heard about us? I didn't expect so much from a westling...”

With a precise motion, she cut the fabric and tied it to her patient's arm.

“Now you must rest again, child. I'll go fetch something to eat for you.”

She left the tent and Karen laid down to do as she was told. Another day passed, much like the one before. Karen learned that her caretaker was a wise woman and the matriarch of her tribe. Among the Sardacian people of the frozen North, wise women were both healers and links to the spirits and the divine.

Eventually, the following sunset, the wise woman held out her hand, and soon the young girl was back on her feet. They felt weird for being laid down for so long.

“It is time we go see the Khaleesi. Are you ready?”

Karen nodded and tried her best to conceal her apprehension.

They walked out of the yurt, and the cold bit the poor girl's skin harshly. The sensation was quickly forgotten however, as she was soon overwhelmed by curiosity and wonder; between the dozens of yurt composing the tribe, only women and children were to be seen. These women were probably the most well-built and strong women Karen had ever seen; wearing only leathers and furs, it was as if cold had no effect on them. Their naked arms were often covered in war paints and tatoos, their wild hair breaded, tied or flowing graciously past their shoulders.

Finally, they entered another yurt, bigger than any other. Inside, at the center, a great fire was burning. On a small podium, a woman was sitting on an exquisite Elven coach of lacquered wood (probably looted somewhere South). Karen was struck by the woman's beauty; her brown hair were cascading down her shoulders, only complimenting her immaculate skin. Her eyes were of a deep brown. Around her, servants, all men, were taking care of househould tasks. Another impressive woman with half her face covered in blue war paint and wielding a huge glaive was probably the former's bodygard.

“Khaleesi, here is the girl.”

“Thank you Siv. Leave us alone, all of you.”

Everyone obeyed the order and left the tent swiftly. Karen was alone with the Khaleesi. Her inquisitive gaze was intimidating.

“What is your name, girl?”

“K-Karen, Your Highness.”

The Khaleesi burst out laughing, which only added to the young one's confusion.

“Your Highness! I was crowned without even noticing! You Westlings and your love of titles will always amaze me. Then you must be the McCormick girl.”

“You know my family?”

“A Khaleesi has also the right to know what's going on in this world. I often go back to that little city of yours – for entertainment, mostly.”

It was true that the woman's face was not unknown to Karen. She couldn't replace when or where, but there was definitely something familiar about her. Something she couldn't really recognize but hidden in plain sight.

“My name is Bodikka, although I do not use my true name when I visit your lands. Maybe you've heard of a certain Rosemary, Sigrid, Kelly...I have many aliases. You are in my domain, all the lands West of the river and North of Lake Milthir are mine. I am pleased to have a McCormick heiress on visit, even if you didn't come here of your own volition.”

“It's true...I was caught in the middle of a battle. Your warriors found me and brought me to you. I guess I must thank you for taking me in.”

The Khaleesi dismissed her with a handwave.

“No need to thank me. Unlike Westerners or Elves, we do not let children to their sorry fate. But this is not our topic. I will send you back to the North with an armed escort, once you are completely healed.”

“Thank you, Khaleesi! Thank you so much!”

“Would you like to join us for dinner tonight? I mean, nothing your people would call dinner but a great feast nonetheless. It would do you some good.”

“I'd be delighted!”

Bodikka's bodygard entered the tent in a rush, putting an abrupt end to the exchange.

“Khaleesi! The Aeslings are back!”

(6)

“Everyone make ready for battle! We shall lead the defences! Karen, you stay there!”

Both women left and out of curiosity, Karen followed them out of tent.

A great cloud of snow and dust had engulfed the surrounding plains as thundering hooves stomped the frozen ground, growing closer with every second. Everywhere, the women of the tribes jumped on their horses and readied their weapons.

From her spot, Karen could not see much, but it was obvious that another tribe was attacking. On the field, an out-of-this-world battle of the sexes was taking place. It was impossible to say which one was getting the upper hand but a group of enemy tribesmen successfully broke through and entered the camp, ready to plunder it. They immediately set their eyes on the young girl standing with the servants.

Karen's heart got out of control as terror overran her. She was petrified at the thought of the horrors that awaited her. They would rape her – several times – and then kill her like a rabbit, and throw her corpse in a mass grave.

But before one of them could lay a hand on her, a piercing war cry tore through the center of the camp. In a flash, the man near Karen was clived in twain by Bodikka before she jumped off her horse. She was alone against five other tribesmen, but she wasn't startled in the least.

“Oi it's the Khaleesi!”

“You'll take all our cocks before you die, cunt!”

“How charming.”

An enemy charged her immediately, but she stepped aside and struck his back with her sword, spilling blood on the snow. Forced on one knee by the impact, the Khaleesi's sent his head flying in a swift motion. Another one tried his chance with a two-handed axe, but to no avail; with another dodge, Bodikka had only to run her sword through his belly to dispose of him.

“What's wrong? Is the tiny thing between your legs slowing you down?”

Yet another foe tried to backstab her, but she parried the blow and stroke his belly, making him fall on his knees. And once more, just like a dancing executioner, she cut his head off. The two remaining attacked from both sides. Bodikka reached for her whip and stroke the one on the left, the rope tying his arms together while she single-handedly parried the other enemy's attacks. She tugged at the rope, causing her target to fall while she cut the other one down.

The only one remaining was reduced to a squirmy, desperate mess on the ground that almost wet himself once the Khaleesi approached him.

“Mercy! Please!”

“Oh, it looks like you don't have balls after all...”

She dug her sword into his heart, ending his pathetic pleas for help. All around, the snow had turned into a red mush of blood and dismembered limbs. In the distance, cries of triumph could be heard as the first women rode back to camp, holding the severed heads of their enemies like trophies.

(7)

Bodikka turned towards Karen, who had not budged an inch since the beginning of the fight.

“Are you alright?”

“Y-yes...you are...you are absolutely AWESOME!”

The girl went on to tell how the fight went on with her own words. The Khaleesi couldn't hold back a chuckle.

Later on that night, the feast was even better thanks to the spoils of war acquired. Many were celebrating in and around the Khaleesi's yurt, as the whole camp was filled with laughter and merriment.

Even if Karen was having a great time, her mind couldn't help but wander. It was as if being so close to death once more had awoken something in her, or made her realize something that was locked deep inside her heart.

Karen had always felt different than the other girls. Ruby was a lady of the court, with a flawless etiquette and sharp tongue. The Northern maiden had no such talents. She didn't belong in court and always wanted to go with her brother, but hunting wasn't an occupation for young ladies. Instead, she had to read books and learn to sew and sing.

The recent events with Kevin only highlighted what she hated about herself: she was a liability. Had she been able to defend herself, maybe the situation would have taken a turn for the better. She clenched her fists in frustration as she remembered how many times she had to be saved by her brother or by Alex. She'd had enough.

She just realized that she was in the perfect place to grow.

“Khaleesi, please let me stay and let me become a warrior like you.”

The sudden request took Bodikka and her bodygards by surprise. Some exchanged intrigued looks.

“Why that, little one? Don't you want to go back to your family?”

“Of course I want to...but not like this. I want to be able to defend myself! I will prove everyone that I'm no damsel in distress!”

“Such a shame that you settled people have put each other in such restricted roles.”

She finished her mug of ale and remained silent, deep in thought. Eventually, she locked eyes with the girl and was surprised to see how she had changed in such little time.

“It's not because you are a princess that I will go easy on you. Your training is going to be hard, and I'm a strict instructor.”

“I don't care! I am ready for everything you might throw at me.”

“Ha! Now that's a spirit I'd wish to see more often in women from your lands! Very well then. Come to me, little one.”

Karen did as she was told while Bodikka stood up, dagger in hand. She turned the girl around like a doll and cut her hair with the knife, throwing the locks in the fire. The whole audience had grown quiet, looking the ritual with attention. Once Karen's hair were cut into a bob, Bodikka spoke up.

“Karen of House McCormick is no more. Tonight, a girl has taken the first steps on the path to become a war maiden. She cast aside what was holding her back and is eager to prove her worth in battle. She now is a member of this tribe and your sister, treat her as if she were of your own blood. Now let's feast, for a new sister has joined the fray!”

Everyone cheered and the cries could be heard from miles away. That night would be a long night.

_Big brother, Alex, mother, father, I'm sorry. Please, stay safe and don't think too much about me. I promise you that I'll be back._

_And that day you will all be proud of me._


	4. A Rose amongst the Lilies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, I hope you will enjoy this chapter as always. The story is rather slow-paced as of now, but it will really start at full speed once we hear about Craig and Tweek in the next chapter and afterwards. Also I apologize for any headaches Christophe's accent might provoke.  
> Soundtrack:  
> 1: The Elder Scrolls IV Oblivion OST- Through The Valleys  
> 2: The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt - Blood And Wine (Soundtrack) 18 The Slopes Of The Blessure  
> 3: The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt - Blood And Wine (Soundtrack) 20 Wind In The Caroberta Woods  
> 4: The Witcher 3: Blood and Wine - The Mandragora Extended  
> 5: The Witcher 3: Blood and Wine: Menu soundtrack French / Français

(1)

It was the beginning of a dull and grey morning when the boat entered the port. Ruby took a deep breath on deck, the cries of seagulls in her ears. She was happy to finally go back to land but she also felt a deep sadness.

When one was on the road, it was as if there always was an option to go back from whence you came, like some kind of invisible thread still holding you there. However, once you reach your destination, that thread is severed and you have to realize that there is no turning back.

Ruby wondered if anyone would recognize her, for she looked drastically different from any picture her mother might have given of her. Gone were the pretty dresses and exotic perfumes; now was the time of leather pants, linen shirts and untied hair. From what she could see, a welcoming committee was waiting for her on the docks; four knights in shining plate armor. Finally, the boat was anchored and the young woman returned to land.

The knights were all wearing colorful surcoats of red and blue, some covered in golden lilies or cups. One of them had given up his helmet, revealing blonde curls and intense blue eyes. He knelt respectifully before Ruby.

“Welcome to the fair lands of Lys, My Lady. I am Ser Gregory of Yardale, and the king has appointed me to be your personal guard for this voyage.”

“All the pleasure is mine. I apologize for my dreadful appearance, but almost three weeks of travelling are usually no good for one's looks.”

“I can assure My Lady's natural beauty is intact. Shall we ride together? Outremonts is only a couple hours away.”

“Of course.”

Ruby mounted on another horse brought by the other knights, and so the voyage resumed through the Lysian countryside. Winter wasn't as harsh as it was in Telos; for the air was mild and the meadows had been spared by frost. Small hamlets dotted the landscape.

“You will love it here, My Lady. The weather in Lorne is not as dry as in the southern dukedoms. The heat in Massaline can be awful in the summer days...”

“Are you from the Iron Islands, Ser Gregory?”

“Why, yes! You have a keen eye, My Lady!”

“More of a keen ear, I'd say. I know someone who was the same accent as you, albeit not as strong. How come an Ironborn ended up serving the king of Lys?”

“A long story; but we do have time to hear it! It all began when...”

_Oh by the gods what did I do?_

Long minutes that seemed like hours passed, during which Gregory's tale was developped in all its precise and not-so-interesting details. Ruby's horse snorted, as if it was annoyed by the knight's incessant babbling.

“...Of course King Christophe at that time had just began his quest for the grail...by the way, did I mention my summer residence in the North of Fleuroy? This is where...”

_I swear if he keeps talking like that I'll throw myself under his horse._

O.O.O.O.O

At the struck of midday, the small retinue entered the walled capital of Outremonts, dominated by its impressive castle sitting on one of the city's many hills.

“Welcome to Outremonts, My Lady. Allow me to give you a bit of context as we wander through the streets...”

_Oh brother..._

“The city itself is divided into several islands drawn by the Sanelle river, with the central one being the city's true heart, with many fairgrounds and of course the biggest cathedral devoted to the Lady of the Lake. Now we are making our way towards the Isle aux chevaux, where the king holds court. Surely, you have already seen the magnificent castle –”

“Oh my, it's true that I almost missed it.” she cut him off, too annoyed to hold back her sarcasms.

“It truly is a sight to behold, isn'it? Quite nothing like the crude castles in the North! We only use white stone and harmonious blue tiles to build the silver spires that you see.”

“From my experience, people who prefer beauty over defenses often end up dead.”

“Here in Lys, we have made the best of two worlds. Wait till you see the inside!”

“I am literally _dying_ to find out...”

They eventually reached the castle, where they let their horses in the stables before entering the keep.

It was true that it was a sight to behold; a bright red carpet, sets of armors and weapons against the walls, huge chandeliers...The walls were sky blue, with golden lilies everywhere. At the end of the main hall, a pond centered around the statue of a woman holding a cup in her hands. A crown of white lilies and roses was resting on her head.

Gregory turned and faced Ruby.

“Does My Lady want to freshen up before meeting the king?”

“It would be marvellous indeed.”

Gregory clapped his hands and a group of servants who were on cleaning duty immediately turned up.

“Let a bath and fresh clothes be prepared for the damsel. The King is expecting her. I shall be going now. I hope to have the pleasure to see you in the throne room, My Lady.”

They bowed to each other and parted before Ruby followed the servants in what would be her new quarters.

She was struck by how beautifully arranged the room was; it was a circular room, painted peach, with a canopy bed on the left side flanked by a massive garde-robe and a dressing table. In front of the entrance, the balcony offered a stunning view of the countryside. On the right, a wooden bathtub in front of the fireplace, behind a three-panel screen.

“Is the damsel pleased with her accomodation?”

“Yes thank you, this will do perfectly.”

O.O.O.O.O

(2)

An hour had passed and Ruby let out a sigh of relief at the wonderful feeling of cleanliness. The blue and golden robes she had been given felt silky smooth on her skin, and she had found ribbons with which to tie her hair into her signature pigtails.

She looked upon her reflection on the mirror and sighed. It would be her first formal gathering on her own. At home, Maureen and Thomas had always been here to guide her, but alas that time was well past.

She gripped the necklace around her neck. Her mother's gift for her last birthday; four silver stars on the sides and a golden sun in the middle. The memories soon began to assail her, but she choked back her tears.

_I've had time to grief. Now's not the time to show weakness._

A knock at the door startled her. She turned back to find a servant at the door.

“His Majesty is ready to see the damsel. Follow me, please...”

She did so and made her way through the many corridors of the estate. The most stunning contrast with the Telosian castles were the many windows lighting the rooms, often made of stained glass.The most common displays were the Lady herself, scenes of battle and of course the Lysian lilies. Between almost each window was hanged a refined tapestry.

Eventually, after yet another long corridor, they reached the throne room. As expected, the room had been arranged to impress both low and high born visitors; on both sides, galleries allowed the court to watch the king receive visitors and attend to matters of state. On top of each pillar holding the galleries, shields displaying the coat of arms of all the dukedoms of Lys, topped by a knight's helmet coming from the same region. Behind the king's throne, which was resting on top of a three step stairs, three openings leading to a gigantic balcony. The flags of all the dukedoms were hanging on the wall on top of the openings, with the Lysian national flag being the largest of all and just behind the king's throne: three white lilies on top of a cup on a field of azure blue.

Ruby's heartbeat quickened when she realized the number of people wandering in the room, even if this did not look like an official meeting. The reason was simple: the king was hearing the peasants' requests. Who on Earth cared about peasants? Since nobody cared about them, they were dismissed quickly once Ruby and her guide came into view. The young woman's arrival immediately raised curious glares from the gathered nobility, which only worsened her discomfort. She felt a knot in her stomach as she approached the throne; no doubt the stern look on the king's face contributed to it.

The king of Lys must have been a bit older than Craig, probably around twenty-five years or slightly older. His golden crown was not enough to hide his rather messy brown hair. Around his shoulders, a heavy necklace made of golden lilies, each of them probably worth a small fortune. He was wearing red robes with blue lining and doted with blue lilies.

Ruby started to think that the Lysian's obssession with lilies was borderline uncomfortable.

The girl applied what she had learned her whole life and bowed gracefully once she was introduced. The king left his throne and hand-kissed her. It was almost comical, for he was easily three heads taller than her.

“I hope Milady has made safe travel.”

“Nice and boring, Your Majesty, just like my brother used to love them.”

“I am sure zat you have much to tell me. Please, do follow me to ze balcony, ve vill not be disturbed zhere.”

She followed him past the horde of wine-drinking nobles and ended up outside, where a cold wind was howling.

“My apologies for ze lack of proper introduction, but as Lady Maureen mentionned in her letter, your arrival at court had to be as discreet as possibeul.”

“I perfectly understand,” she said while thinking that his dreadful accent was bound to give her a headache sooner or later, “and I thank you for the hospitality.”

“It would be most wise to use anozer identity. Ze Dominion has no influence here, nor does Telos, but both still have embassies in ze city. Zheir members are often honored guests of my court, so I would advise caution.”

“I already figured it out. Spending weeks on a boat forces you to think a lot.”

“Hm, very true. What will it be, zhen?”

“Lady Tricia of Albhà, a guest from the Strait Kingdom.”

“Very well. I shäll notify Gregory of your new status. Should you need anything specific, feel free to ask for him.”

“I'd rather ask you instead, I won't lie...”

“Did he behave badly?”

“No, quite the contrary. It's just that if I have to listen to one more story, I'll fling myself from the walls.”

Christophe couldn't hold back a laugh.

“'Tis true zat he can be a little...”

“Annoying?”

“Yes, let's put it zat way. Nonezeless, he's been my most trusted friend for years, and an honorable knight. We've even made our Grail pilgrimage togezer.”

“If Your Majesty says so, then I believe it.”

“I yearn for spring to come. I will be delighted to show you the most beautiful places in all ze rèlm.”

“It will be a pleasure.”

O.O.O.O.O

_Five months later, 19 th of Midyear_

The dukedom of Montjoie marked the frontier between Lys and Telos, and was located east of Lorne and the capital. Famous for its orchards filled with apples, peaches and lemons, the dukedom could also count on some of the finest Lysian wines, even if THE world-famous Lysian wine came from the vineyards of Chenonceaux in the South.

The many dangerous beasts residing in the mountains were also what made the dukedom famous; cockatrices, harpies and hippogryffs were among the most common. If caught and properly tamed, an hippogryff could serve as mount for a Grail Knight.

It was precisely one of these legendary beasts that Christophe and his companions were chasing that afternoon. Even if she did not activaley take part in the hunt, Ruby enjoyed the thrill of it and never missed an occasion to join Christophe. The landscape itself was well worth the voyage; never had she seen meadows so green and lush, orchards so filled with colorful fruits, water so cristal clear. The only thing worse than in Telos would be the peasants' misery.

The peasants had very few rights, some would say the cattle had more than them, and were mostly uneducated and illiterate, for the only way to be educated in Lys was to go to a monastery of the Lady, provided one had the coin to pay the entrance fee. They were mere property of their feudal lord and had to surrender a subtantial portion of their crops each harvest. As a result, most remained poor throughout their entire lives and famine was a constant threat. The possibilites to climb up the social ladder were non-existent; there was no ladder at all.

Such was the price of being low-born in the rigid society of Lys, where blood and birthright were everything.

The Hippogryff would be the latest victim of the nobility's favorite sport. Slain by Gregory, the beast laid dead on the ground.

“A powerful blow! The eggs of the beast will make fine destriers in a few years!” Christophe cheered.

After two days of riding, the retinue arrived to Outremonts and the Hippogriff's eggs were given to the royal stables.

In two other days Outremonts would celebrate the yearly summer solstice festival, which was to last four days. Wine, food, tourneys and various games would reign in the city and for a while even the commoners would forget life's daily hardships.

The castle's courtyard had been filled with colorful tents and arbors, under which the nobles would be served delicacies beyond their wildest dreams. The most exquisite flowers had been brought to make garlands and to adorn the tents. At the center of the courtyard, musicians, acrobats and jesters would perform.

Weary of wandering in the castle, Ruby decided to take a stroll in the city. Outremonts was a lively and beautiful city, even though its inhabitants still considered that throwing the content of their chamber pots through the window was a sound practice. But a human city without the smell of piss drying on the pavement wasn't a really a human city.

As she walked through the Cathedral plazza, a group of musicians caught everyone's attention. The quick and joyful tempo had no trouble in conquering the audience's hearts and they soon clapped and cheered in rhythm. Despite standing in the middle of the crowd, Ruby had the feeling to be looked upon. It was just an instinct of hers, but her instincts were seldom wrong.

(3)

She took a look around and some sort of shady individual, standing not far from her in the crowd, head covered by a brown hood. She could feel that he was staring straight at her. She tried to brush it off and get her attention back to the music, maybe she was being paranoid, after all.

She took a glance back a few seconds later. The man had moved closer.

Time to leave.

She made her way through the crowd and headed for the cathedral. No way for someone to disturb a place of worship without drawing attention. Religious service was taking place inside. The cathedral looked even more stunning and gigantic from the inside; the roof was extremely high up and the nave was large. The rose windows were of a rare beauty and the air was filled with vapors of incense. Sitting on the many benches facing the priest, people were chanting their prayers to the Lady of the Lake. Careful as to not disturb the ceremony, she stayed on the side path and carefully opened the rear door leading to the street.

She held back a scream when she found the man waiting for her. The latter threw his palms into the air as if to surrender.

“I am deeply sorry to have startled you, Milady!”

“Why are you following me?!”

“My apologies to have caused such a fright. I just wanted to give you back this piece of paper, you dropped it in the street earlier.”

“Thank you...I...you have a worrying talent for tailing, you know that?”

“We Esrei are natural stalkers.”

“You are far from your forest, Wood Elf.”

The Elf finally dropped his hood, revealing eyes as black as the night and fair hair.

“I agree, besides the sun is taking a toll on my skin...Merely impossible to go out without a hat. My name is Llomen, pleased to meet you.”

“Tricia of Albhà. What brings you to fair Lys?”

“I am a member of the Elven Dominion's delegation to King Christophe.”

“I see. I am most sorry, but I have matters to attend to at the castle.”

“Of course Milady. Will you be at the summer festival?”

“Without a doubt.”

“Splendid! I hope to see you there, then. Good day to you.”

He bowed and headed back his own way.

_Wait a minute...I didn't drop anything, did I?_

Nervously, she opened the piece of paper. It was a letter.

_Lady Ruby,_

_I know that you are using a false identity. It is most wise. Fret not, for I am a friend._

_The situation in Telos is worsening by the day. Queen Marjorine has called upon the Dominion to attack the McCormicks in the North. I fear that civil war is back, and the Queen is determined to dispose of everyone who was related to your brother. However, troubled times also bear opportunities._

_I do not know where your brother is, I don't even know if he is still alive but we don't have time to look for him. Now is the time to reclaim what is rightfully yours. There is yet hope to see a Tucker monarch on the throne; and that hope rests within you, My Lady._

_If it is your wish, come and meet my friend Llomen during the summer festival, the very same Wood Elf who has given you this missive. You can trust him; he hates the Dominion with a burning passion. Be wary of the High Elf ambassadors or anyone else. The walls have ears._

_King Christophe and Ser Gregory will also help you in your endeavor. I am eager to see you again, My Lady._

_Long live House Tucker._

_A friend_

  
  


Ruby slowly headed back to the castle. Her past had caught up with her and she didn't know what to think of it. Did she even want to be queen?

No, not really. But perhaps it was the best thing to do. If war had engulfed Telos once more, it meant Alex, Kenny, Token and all her friends were in danger. She had to make sure they were safe.

But would she dare put everything at risk?

O.O.O.O.O

(4)

The courtyard was filled with merry and not really sober people. It smelled heavily of wine and perfume. As the musicians played their instruments, people were laughging, drinking, playing cards or dice and feasting under the arbors. The guards themselves had a cup of wine in the hand. It was the kind of party Bebe would have killed to go to.

“Mon Roy, the ambassdors from Zaron have arrived.” a servant whispered into Christophe's ear.

The king of Lys left his seat and went on to meet the newcomers. The latters were a group of four Elves with Llomen being part of them. They all wore fine slik tunics of blue and gold, probably a kind of honor given to the land they stayed in.

“Your Majesty, We are most impressed by those festivities. It almost feels like home!” The High Elf head ambassador said groveling.

“Coming from such a cultured people, it is by far one of the best compliments I ever received. Please, make yourselves at ease.”

Not far from there, Ruby hoped the wine would dull her sense enough as to not pay attention to Gregory's stories anymore. At that moment, the blond was busy impressing the ladies around them with the story of how he slew a rampaging cockatrice in the mountains of Fleuroy. Judging by the ladies' drunk chuckles, it sounded like the cockatrice's spirit had returned to make them the gift of its melodic voice. They were interrupted by Llomen's arrival, however, and Gregory stood up to greet him with an accolade – and a cup of wine.

“Ah my favorite Elf!”

“Pleased to see you too, Greg...and...Lady Tricia! You have come too!”

“I do not go back on my word, and I above all never miss a good discussion.”

A gaze was enough for them to understand each other. Gregory led them to a more quiet spot of the courtyard but still filled with small bands of nobles as not to raise any suspition from unwanted spectators. As he stepped into the sunlight, Llomen reached for a small vial into his pocket and immediately splashed some kind of oil on his neck.

“Sorry for the display, but the sun is burning my skin like it never did before...”

“I didn't know the Wood Elves were so sensitive to sunlight.” Ruby commented with curiosity.

“In the forest there is always a canopy that shields us from the sun's most aggressive rays...but as you can see, there is a distinct lack of proper trees in this country...”

“That's because you've never been to Brienne, dear. The woods there as deep as the bottom of the castle's wine cellar!” Gregory precised, earning another eye-roll from Ruby, “Can I try it?”

“Uh, why not, but you might not like the sme –”

“Eew by the Lady what is in that vial?!”

“Mushroom extract from the Night Glade back home. Only place in the world where it grows.”

“All of this is interesting for sure but we didn't come here to talk alchemy, did we?” Ruby recalled with crossed arms.

“Indeed, My Lady. What we must do is meet tonight in the stables. Everyone will be too busy celebrating as to pay attention if anyone goes missing. Once we'll be on a horse, we will ride to the frontier and then stay close to the mountains until we reach Helios.”

“Helios? This is a rather big detour...”

“We were originally going to meet in Refield but Lord Donovan has been compromised. Last I've heard of him, he was being visited by Witch Hunters.”

“Blast! I guess we have no choice then, Helios it is.”

“Then it is set.”

“Will I have the occasion to say farewell to His Majesty?”

“I don't think so, sadly. If the king goes missing, even for a couple of minutes, it would raise suspicion. I will relay your goodbye to him, as complete as possible.”

“Thank you, Ser Gregory.”

“Now let us celebrate with a bit of Chenonceaux Sec...”

O.O.O.O.O

(5)

Night finally fell on Outremonts, still filled with music and laughter from the slums to the castle. While everyone was busy partying, Ruby headed for the stables, her attire completely changed for a shirt, simple pants and boots under a dark cloak.

She pushed the door of the stables and was overwhelmed with the sent of hay and horseshit. Why on Earth did all stealth leaves begin in stables? Someone could just have the horses out already!

She took a few steps forward but nobody seemed to be present yet. She waited for long minutes, but for naught. Her heart grew weary; something was wrong.

“Llomen?” she called out.

Suddenly, leaping from the shadows like a cat, someone grabbed her from behind and pulled a wet tissue on her face to prevent any screams.

“Queen Marjorine sends her regards.”

Some kind of potion had been poured on the tissue and Ruby soon felt too weak to fight back. Her eyelids felt heavy.

She had walked headfirst into a deathtrap.

Once she fell unconscious, her kidnappers stepped out of the shadows, all wearing brown hooded cloaks.

“We have the girl. Let's get out of here.”

 


	5. Feldspar and the Wizard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally we hear about our lovely couple!  
> Soundtrack:  
> 1: The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt - 'Whispers of Oxenfurt' Instrumental Extended - Unofficial Soundtrack  
> 2: Ride Of The Demigryphs (Total War: Warhammer Soundtrack)  
> 3: Whispers of the Hillock - Velen Exploration 10  
> 4: The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt OST - Silver For Monsters [HQ] [Extended]  
> 5: Black Orc (Total War: Warhammer Soundtrack)  
> 6: Star Wars - Leia Organa Suite (Theme)  
> 7: same as track 1  
> 8: B4-D4 - Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic II soundtrack  
> 9: WAAAGH!!! (Total War: Warhammer Soundtrack)  
> 10: Kill Da Humiez! (Total War: Warhammer Soundtrack)  
> 11: The Elder Scrolls III - Morrowind Soundtrack - 17 The Prophecy Fulfilled

(1)

"...fourty...fifty...sixty...seventy...and eighty!"

The Dwarf closed the wooden box he was holding and put it back on the counter behind him. Craig put the money away and bowed respectfully.

"Thank you. Always a pleasure to do business with you."

"The pleasure is all mine! It's rare to find someone who can recognize plants around here. Without you I'd have to collect them meself or hire some brain-dead beardling!"

"Then do not hesitate to contact me shall the need arise."

"I will. May your ancestors smile on you, Feldspar."

Craig left the apothecary and headed home.

In order to live comfortably, Craig and Tweek proposed their services to others, provided there was coin to be won. Collecting alchemical ingredients in the dangerous wild, helping a smith with telekinesis, they had a wide range of tasks to attend to and the pay was decent most of the time.

Even if they were far from the continent, Craig had decided to use another identity; Feldspar the thief. He got the idea from one of his favorite romans where the protagonist was a cunning rogue influencing kings and emperors thanks to his great wisdom and charisma.

When the raven opened the door to his house, he found Tweek taking a bath. At the same time, he was reading a grimoire which was levitating mere inches away from his face. For the past few months, Tweek would spend most of his free time reading the tomes his brother sent him. As of late, the blond had discovered a particular interest in photomancy and white magic. The light was a natural response for someone who felt uneasy in the dark.

"How is my diligent student doing?"

"Mmh," would be Tweek's only answer, as he was too engrossed by his reading.

Craig tossed his purse and cloak on the table. With a playful smile, he took off his clothes and joined his lover into the bathtub, which thankfully was large enough for both of them. Tweek didn't seem to notice the intrusion.

"Boo."

"ACK!

The blond's jumpscare unleashed a telekinetic push that catapulted the grimoire sideways and straight into Craig's purse, sending coin flying through the whole room.

"Well there goes my pay." Craig deadpanned.

"Sorry...you startled me!"

"I'm sorry too then. I assumed you would like it if I joined you."

"Don't worry, I'll fix this right away."

Tweek's hand emerged from the water and with a simple wave all the coins took off from the ground and piled up nicely on the table.

"You're really getting good at this," Craig pointed out, "if you go on that way I think Douchebag will have a run for his money the next time we meet."

The blond looked saddened upon hearing those words.

"Do you actually think we'll ever go back to Telos?"

Craig looked away, not really sure of what to answer. Then he simply landed a kiss on Tweek's forehead and embraced him, trying to look reassuring.

"Once things are settled down, there's no reason we can't go back. Perharps they'll even come see us. Who knows."

Tweek sighed and looked up to his lover, obviously not convinced. Craig gave him an awkward smile.

"I'm terrible at comforting, aren't I?"

"Let's say you gave it your best shot." Tweek snickered before kissing him, "I appreciate it anyway."

He passed a hand through his lover's hair and leant in for another kiss. Craig had missed the delicious taste and warmth of Tweek's soft lips. The way the blond kissed him in such a needy yet tender way, the sensation of his bare skin against his, his green eyes looking up at him with such care and devotion...everything in Tweek was making him melt.

They just laid there silently for a while, basking in the warm water and in their embrace.

"Tweek?"

"Mh?"

"There's a silver lining to...everything that happened."

"There is?"

Craig stared blankly at the wall for a moment, processing his train of thought. Eventually, he broke the silence again, still staring at the same invisible point:

"I'm sorry for not giving you all the care and the love you deserved back then. Now that we're on our own I feel like I can finally make up for my failings."

"You were restrained and it was a tough time for everyone, everything is not your fault, you know?"

"I know it's just..." he sighed heavily, "...it's just that my life has fallen apart in a matter of hours and...I feel like I've also failed you."

Tweek remained silent, at a loss for words.

"I've gambled everything and I've lost. I knew there was a constant risk of us being caught. For you, for Ruby, for the others...I..."

It almost looked like he was about to cry. Tweek knew that Craig was still too proud to weep in front of him, but the raven's pain was obvious.

"I guess I thought myself as invincible. Now look at the results."

"I thought you were going to explain further the silver lining you talked about, not elaborate on why you think you are such a terrible person."

Craig's lips curved into a smile.

"You're getting quite your brother's sting, aren't you?"

"Is that a problem?" the other answered playfully.

"Not at all. I quite like it, to be honest."

They got out of the water and put on some fresh clothes. Tweek finally seemed to notice the amount of gold Craig had brought back that day.

"Wow...that's...twice as more as usual!"

"Exactly. And you know, that fancy restaurant I spotted on Kantuz plazza?"

Tweek's eyes lightened at the mention.

"The one with the traditional dwarf recipe of venison cooked in beer?!" he asked, earning a grin from the raven.

"Precisely...I'm taking you out for dinner."

"I LOVE YOU CRAIG!!" he threw himself into his lover's arms.

Since Tweek had mostly overcome his coffee addiction, he had discovered he had quite the appetite. Thanks to this new hobby of his, he had put on some much needed weight. Sometimes Craig thought that Tweek was changing at an alarming rate, too quickly for him to adapt, while himself stagnated. Even if he didn't want to admit it, he was a little scared. What if the blond grew tired of him? From the two, Tweek was the one who had the most adapted to their exile. It also brought a new dynamic into their relationship; Craig was used to comfort Tweek and take care of him, but now the blond hardly needed any comfort or help anymore. His growing capabilities only confirmed that fact.

What if he was definitely growing obsolete?

What if he ended up only being a liability to Tweek?

So many questions that needed to be repressed once more.

"I love you too, Tweek."

O.O.O.O.O

A few days later, Craig had accepted a rather dangerous contract; picking up rare mushrooms for the same alchemist he already had worked for. That didn't sound really hazardous per se, the danger mainly came from the Gobelins who cultivated the mushrooms for...recreative uses. Tweek and Craig decided they would go together, as neither of them was comfortable letting the other handle the mission on his own.

While the Dwarfs didn't mount horses (for obvious reasons), some humans from the mainland held the only stable in the islands and the couple often relied on them for mission that required to travel longer distances. The Emerald Islands weren't vast, at least not larger than the Iron Isles and so it was possible to make a tour of the main isle in around two days on horse. The duo left the city early in the morning and rode through the sun-baked plains for a few hours, heading for the mountains ahead.

Craig's travel gear was light: his brown cloak and his chullo were his only set of armor and relied more on his trusted spear and a crossbow to protect himself. Tweek's clothing was also light with brown pants and a green shirt only. He was carrying a simple sword but hoped that he would not need to use it, for he was still scared of the idea of cutting himself and bleeding to death. He was more at ease with a steel quarterstaff that a Dwarf smith had forged for a modest fee. This was no mage staff at all, but it was perfect for an apprentice like him.

Around midday they stopped and let their horses graze as they sat in the shadow of a great tree to have lunch. On the menu: dried fish on buttered bread, fresh berries for dessert and Dwarf craft-beer to gulp it all down.

"The mushrooms grow in a cavern beneath the mountains. If we continue to follow the stream we'll eventually reach it." Craig informed while packing up.

"Are there many Gobelins in there?"

Tweek's tone betrayed him. He was worried at the idea of fighting the vile creatures in their own home.

"Last time I was there there were only a handful. I don't think they are as widespread here as they can be in Eastmarch or Lys."

Tweek nodded but he was obviously unconvinced. Craig passed a hand through his blonde mane and let his hand slide down to cup his lover's chin.

"Don't worry honey, what can a bunch of weak green-skinned freaks do against us?"

"I-I don't know Craig! Back home they say the nastiest stories about Gobelins! They say they poke the eyes of their prisonners out and then they stick spiders in the holes! SPIDERS, CRAIG!"

The raven silenced him with a kiss that apparently managed to relax the blond a little.

"I'll never let them touch those gorgeous eyes of yours, you know that."

A distant screech startled them.

"What was that?!"

"It came from the mountains."

"Isn't that where we're heading to?"

"I'm afraid that's the case."

Tweek mumbled something and quickly went back to his horse. They rode together and reached the rocky trail that lead to the mountains and the caverns below them. They were greeted by the sorry sight of a dead animal in the middle of the road. Its carcass was in such a pitiful state that Tweek had to repress the urge to vomit at the sight of the sprawling viscera.

They both went down and took a few steps towards the corpse. The pool of blood beneath the beast was a vivid crimson and there were thin blood trails where the boys now stood, indicating that the carcass must have been dragged on the floor.

"It's a moose...I mean, what's left of it..." Craig examined, "Its belly got shredded and several organs are missing...whatever killed it must have left in a hurry."

"Craig, look, there's a lot of arrows over there!"

Indeed, dozens of crude arrows were spread out on the ground, but none seemed to have hit the moose. Craig dug out an arrow and took a closer look at it.

"Primitive arrow head, Gobelin craft for sure..."

"But Gobelins cannot possibly shred an animal like that!"

"Of course not, only claws and teeth can rend a beast as big as a moose, which means it's probably a chimaera."

A roar echoed through the mountains and a lion headed monstrosity charged down the cliff with the firm intention to add both boys to its lunch.

(2)

"Yup, definitely a chimaera!"

Craig aimed his crossbow at the foe and shot. The quarrel landed on the chimaera's left shoulder and it stumbled because of the impact. The raven grabbed another quarrel, wanting to end the fight quickly.

"CRAIG! WATCH OUT!"

He turned his head only to see another chimaera leaping towards him with mouth wide open. It was already too late to attempt an escape.

As he believed that his final hour had come, the creature crashed mid-flight into an invisible wall in front of him, much to the raven's surprise. He turned around to see Tweek standing with his hands raised, his staff levitating in front of him. The blond's shield became visible when the angered chimaera tried to hit them again with its snake stail, taking the form of a glass-like bubble, like a honeycomb.

The second chimaera limped towards the shield and slammed hit with its goat hooves. Tweek pushed his hands in the air and the shield exploded, sending the two creatures flying.

Craig took hold of his spear and ran to the closest beast which was already back up and ready to strike. It tried to bite him with its mighty maw but the boy dodged and bled him with two precise strikes of his spear to the flank. Enraged, the monster counter-attacked with a wide tail-swipe, smacking Craig out of balance. His spear landed a few feet away, out of reach.

"Fuck not again!"

The chimaera was losing blood profusely but it wanted to take its foe with it. With a final roar and gathering its remaining strength, it charged Craig.

"Craig! Your spear!"

With a flick of the wrist, Tweek magically lifted the spear by the hilt and threw it back to Craig. He caught it midflight just as the chimaera lunged at him and jumped backwards to avoid its maw. Craig then jumped forward and pierced the beast's skull with his weapon.

As for Tweek, he had pushed the second chimaera back with a telekinetic push, sending it crash against the mountain's flank. The monster tried to get back up but an invisible force was pinning it down to the ground. With his free hand, Tweek shot a bolt of concentrated light on the cliff, tearing off stones from the mountain side. With a final push, he let the boulder fall and crush the chimaera, killing it on the spot.

(3)

"Phew, that was a close one." Tweek said while reuniting with Craig.

"You saved my life twice in a row, you're incredible!"

Tweek blushed at the compliment and scratched his right cheek, a gesture he always did when he felt embarassed.

"Well I applied what I've learned...but thank you."

"Let's get this over with, I can see the cavern's entrance from here."

They made their way to the cavern without any other distraction. The place was shrouded in darkness and the only thing to be heard was the echo of the water running down towards the depths of the earth.

Craig didn't even need to ask for it: Tweek conjured two orbs of light that levitated around them, lighting the way with each step they took. Eventually, after a few minutes walk between the stalagmites, they reached a sort of larger room covered in glowing blue mushrooms from floor to roof. The beauty of the place was breathtaking; in complete darkness, it looked like constellations in the night sky.

"It's beautiful..." Tweek thought out loud.

"It is. Reminds me of the North's sky at night."

"How lucky Alex is..."

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing you idiot," Tweek chuckled, "I'm lucky to be with you as well!"

His lover's words were completely devoid of any regret, yet for some reason they hurt Craig deeply. Maybe Tweek was actually envying his brother and having second thoughts about his exile with Craig.

"Craig? Are you alright?"

"Uh? Y-yeah, let's collect the mushrooms and go home."

"You seemed miles away for a second."

"Just a little tired, it's alright."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes Tweek, I'm fine."

Craig was relieved that the surrounding darkness prevented Tweek from seeing his face, otherwise he would have called out the raven's bluff immediately. Even so, the blond was unconvinced but arguing in the middle of a dark, damp cave was far from being the wisest course of action to follow.

Both knelt and began gathering the precious alchemical ingredients. The inside of their bags soon started to give off a faint blue light.

(4)

"HEY! SOME GITS ARE TAKIN' OUR SHROOMS!"

The sound of a crude trompet echoed through the cave, soon followed by the high-pitched warcries of dozens of Goblins pourring from the depths, their beady red eyes glowing in the darkness. Tweek threw a ball of light upwards that, much like a flare, illuminated the whole area.

Blinded, the small creatures covered their eyes, giving the couple the time needed to quickly run away with their prize.

Soon the end of the tunnel! They could already feel the rays of the sun on their skin as they ran towards the exit, a horde of savage green-skinned fiends on their tail. Alas, it seemed the foul gods of the Greenskins were on the side of their worshippers; the sun was soon bloated by tall, large figures.

"WATCH OUT! TROLLS!"

The drooling beasts charged them, swinging their crude maces in the air before landing a crushing blow. Fortunately, since trolls weren't the most intellectual creatures, they just succeeded in reducing other Goblins to a red paste. The ones on their back started to yell in frustration.

"YE SHALL NOT PASS!"

The other Greenskins soon encircled the two fugitives. Craig tightened his grip on his spear, while Tweek's staff glew menacingly. The Goblins readied their crude weapons.

"Tweek?"

"Craig?"

"Don't die on me please."

"I don't intend to."

A fleeting moment of peace broke out. It was as if tension was slowing down the flow of time. Finally, the Goblin on the troll's back cackeled his orders:

"GET'EM!"

His lackeys jumped on their target only to be scythed down by Craig's spear. Tweek shot burning bolts of light straights to the fiends' heads, piercing their skulls and frying their (tiny) brains. Back to back, Craig and Tweek mowed down the relentless tide of Greenskins assailling them, spinning around and stepping sideways and back to cover each other's blind spots. The Goblin chief eventually had enough and spurred his troll. The beast surged forward and swinged its mace blindly, striking both rock and Goblin alike until it finally reached the battlefield.

Craig was too busy getting a dead Goblin off his spear to see the weapon coming in his direction. He was struck sideways and sent flying to the nearest wall, where he felt his ribs split upon the impact.

"CRAIG!"

Panic soon started to overwhelm Tweek as he struggled to push back the horde. He could feel the insidious fear crawling in every inch of his body, as his heartbeat muffled even the never-ending screams of the Goblins. The magicka flowing in his veins started to pump _ten times_ faster than usual and he suddenly felt an overwhelming amount of magic massing in his body.

"TOO...MUCH...PRESSURE!! GAAAAAH!"

Losing the last bit of control he had, Tweek unleashed a telekinetic shockwave that blew everything away in a large radius. Even the trolls, despite their colossal size, were thrown outside the cave.

Tweek fell on his knees, breathing heavily and completely drained by the magic burst. Gathering what was left of his strength, he slowly went to Craig who was holding his bleeding chest.

"Are you alright?"

"I think my ribs have..." he was interrupted by a creeping cough, "...my ribs have pierced my lung..."

Tweek pushed Craig's hand away and put his own on the wound. A dim light soon appeared beneath his palms.

"I'm going to use what's left of my magicka to stop your bleeding and repair your lung..."

"Tweek are you..."

Craig clenched his teeth at the burning sensation in his chest. He didn't know about his lung but he was pretty sure the blond was cauterizing the wound on the spot. Eventually, after a few seconds, the lacerating pain inside his chest had stopped. He could still feel his broken bones but at least it seemed they weren't going to shred his innards apart anymore.

"Don't worry...I'm going to faint at any moment..."

Just after pronouncing those words, Tweek fell in Craig's lap.

_We can't die like this..._

The bloodcurdling cackle of Goblins echoed through the cave.

_I can't do anything. I'm powerless._

Craig brought Tweek closer to him.

"I'm so sorry Tweek...I failed again..." he whispered as a single tear rolled down his cheek.

O.O.O.O.O

(5)

Tweek was abruptly brought back to conscioussness by a bucket of cold water on his face. He sat up straight like he'd been hit by a thunderbolt, only to notice that his hands were bound behind his back. Craig was in the same state next to him, and they were facing a particularly nasty looking Goblin sitting on a patched throne. They were outside, amid what looked like a camp made of dozens of leather tents. The smell of dung was almost as nasty as the inhabitants. Goblins were small creatures, usually the size of a child, with ridiculously pointy ears and hooked noses. Wearing all sorts of made-up amor pieces and crude weapons, they were a violent race who lived only for war and plunder, spread in tribes all over the world.

That's precisely why Tweek was very surprised to be still alive.

"Let's get one thing clear: I'm da boss here!" the Goblin chieftain said, making the point on his helmet tilt, "You been stealin' da boss' shrooms, so you gotta die! And we's gonna watch!"

The Greenskin crowd cheered in unison.

"How should we kill'em, mighty Zanik?" one of the Goblins asked.

"Throw'em to da trolls!"

"TO DA TROLLS!" the audience agreed.

The other Goblin suddenly looked a bit uneasy at the idea.

"Psst...Boss, da trolls are gone. Dey's been looking for food."

"Er...den...get the Shaman! Blow der heads off with nasty magicks!"

"NASTY MAGICKS!"

"Psst...Boss...da Shaman has had too much shrooms...he can't really be disturbed right now."

"Ah zog it! Put'em in a pot and eat'em."

"We aren't eadible, you know...I'm pretty sure human flesh tastes atrocious..." Craig retorted.

"Don't care. Da boyz need to eat before attacking da stunties."

"You're going to attack the Dwarfs?"

"Aye. We's too many for da stunties and deir hold. Finally we'll get the whole island for ourselves! Everyone who's not dead will know dat Zanik's da best!"

The horde of Goblins became excited by their leader's speech.

"I'm gonna stomp 'em to dust. I'm gonna pile 'em up inna big fire and roast 'em. I'm gonna bash 'eads, break faces and jump on da bits dat are left. An' den...An' den...

The crowd remained silent, as if holding their breath for the grand finale.

"An'den I'm gonna get really mean!"

The Goblins cheered louder than they'd ever done before. Tweek and Craig were thrown in the tent that was used like a granary by the tribe, hands and feet tied. Outside, they could hear the Greenskins' crude music, consisting mostly in beating the living shit out of drums, echoing through the whole camp.

(6)

"What a fucking dumb way to die." Craig let out with a sigh.

"Hm..."

"Are you okay? You look...quiet peaceful for someone who's about to die."

"Oh...I think it's because I'm still completely dazed by the outburst of magic. Can't quite get into my head that we're going to end up in a Goblin stew."

Craig exhaled louder, amused by the answer.

"I'm sorry honey. For everything. Maybe if I hadn't failed at everything I undertook, we wouldn't be about to die right now."

Tweek gave his lover a confused look.

"So that's why you've been so gloomy these past few days?"

"Mostly...you see...well I guess I'll have to talk about it, since we're going to die soon."

The raven sighed and remained silent for a moment, pondering his choice of words. It looked particularly painful to him to open up that much about how he felt.

"It was a mistake to take you with me into exile. The only thing I've done is dragging you down."

"What kind of nonsense is this?"

"It's the truth Tweek, I mean look at me, look at _us_! I've fallen so low and I'm just taking you down with me! You don't deserve death because of my greed and incompetence!"

He clenched his teeth, as if he was holding himself back from spewing more of the self-hatred he had accumulated over time. Tweek was at a loss for words, too shocked to react.

"I failed all of you...I've condemned us all to die like dogs."

"I'm sure the others are more than a match for Marjorine."

"It's not about her...It's Cartman I'm most afraid of. He has won, since the day Marjorine accepted to oust me with his help, and he's going to make sure he stays on top. I wish I could help our friends...but we have nothing left. I don't even know if Ruby made her way safely to Lys."

"You are mixing everything up, please calm down!"

Craig couldn't help but scoff at the irony.

"See? That's also what's been bothering me so much. You've grown so much and I'm still stuck in the dumps."

At that moment, he didn't know how Tweek got free of his ropes but the questions vanished once the blond cupped his head and kissed him passionately. Craig was swept away by a wave of warmth and tender love at his lover's touch, certainly amplified by some spell the blond had put on him. It was as if a fire was slowly burning within his core, with the delightful and comforting heat of the hearth that one sat in front of during cold winter days.

Tweek gently released him and plunged his eyes within his lover's.

"You aren't perfect, you are human. Stop judging yourself by the standarts of the gods, will you? It's impossible to be strong, all the time."

"But I..."

"Shh, let me finish. You just need to find another path, just like I did since I've been here. And...I'm happy to live here with you. I love you and everyone else loves you because they do, not because of some obligation they have. We've been beaten, it's true, but we haven't been destroyed either. We shall overcome this, just like everything else they have thrown our way!"

Craig remained silent and simply looked at his lover, unsure of what to answer. Tweek scratched his hair nervously.

"I'm sorry I know it's a bit messy for a comforting speech but...listen I can't make your noxious thoughts disappear on my own but...we'll get rid of them together. You have showed me so many times that you are a talented, exceptional person. That's why so many looked up to you when you were on the throne."

"Tweek?"

"Yes?"

"I love you, you have no idea of how much I love you..."

That time Craig was the one to close the distance between them. Their lips met once more as Craig embraced Tweek like his own life depended on it, neverminding the pain from his wound. He stopped a moment to catch his breath and whispered a soft "thank you" to his lover before sealing their lips again.

"Making out in the middle of a Goblin camp...now that's living on edge."

They both burst out laughing, releasing their accumulated tension since the beginning of their adventures. Craig felt a quick burning sensation around his palms, only for the ropes binding him to be severed a second later.

"How about escaping?" Tweek asked, a serpent of light dancing around his lifted hand.

"A bright idea!"

Tweek threw an incredule look at Craig while his lips curved into an amused, intrigued smile.

"Is that supposed to be a pun?"

"Maybe."

"See, you've changed!"

Craig scoffed and got up, trying to dissimulate his blush.

"Yeah so how about escaping?"

Well, it was certain that in certain aspects, Craig would always remain the same.

O.O.O.O.O

(7)

The coastal city of Urbaz Zon was a melting pot of different cultures that lived together in more or less harmony. A great number of Dwarfs who fled oppression at the hands of the Dominion found shelter there and formed the largest part of the Isle's population. The rest were Human traders and some Elven families who had been casted out of their continental realms. To rule this eclectic society, a council formed of the most influent (by that understand wealthiest) guilds had been formed, with the office of burgomaster rotating between the council's representatives.

The burgomaster at the time was Varf Ad Agrul, head of the miner's guild and by far one of the wealthiest Dwarfs in town. His tunics were colorful and of the finest silk, his brown beard was finely trimmed and if he had more than ten fingers, he'd certainly put even more rings on them. Yes, one could say that Varf was a Dwarf that lived in the lap of luxury, and just like every rich person liked to pretend that he always had something important to attend to.

However, half-dead, dirt-covered visitors crashing into the door to his chambers wasn't on his agenda.

"What is the meaning of this?! Who are you? How dare you enter my private appartments? GUARDS!"

"WAIT WAIT WAIT!" Tweek cried out after taking a deep breath, "We can explain everything Burgomaster, please this is of the utmost importance!"

"Well take a bloody appointment then!"

"The Goblins are massing to attack the city!" Craig barged in.

Varf finally got up from his paper filled desk and squinted at them like they were some kind of mentally deficient troll (albeit not very far from a mentally able troll, that said).

"Grobi, you said?"

"Yes! They're on their way to take the city!" Craig repeated.

"From where do you hold this information?"

"From their own leader! We were captured but we managed to escape...we then rode for hours as fast as we could and...here we are."

"Nonsense! The Grobi scum is nothing more but a band, how can they pose a threat to us?"

"There are literally thousands of them! We've been held in their camp, we know what we're talking about!"

The Burgomaster pinched his nose and processed the information for a moment. Finally, he took hold of a bell on his desk and rang it. A servant came in immediately.

"Send word to the council that an emergency meeting must be held. I also want a scouting party to investigate the area around the mountains."

The servant bowed and ran off to carry on his tasks. Varf's gaze fell upon Tweek and Craig once more.

"Well it doesn't look like you are making this up, but my scouts will return soon enough. In the mean time, let's tend to your wounds."

O.O.O.O.O

It was late in the night, or maybe early in the morning, when the council gathered around the table to discuss the incoming events. Tweek and Craig, whose wounds had been tended to thanks to potions and poultices, were standing in a corner of the room as guests. Varf was the last one to enter the room and seated at the end of the large table, where he could get a look at the whole audience.

"My friends...I fear these two adventurers were right. The scouts came back with news of a Grobi warhost never seen before on those islands coming right for us."

"How many warriors do we have?" another Dwarf asked.

"A few hundreds at best...Even if we soften'em up with the thrunds I'm afraid we won't be enough to keep them at bay."

"Then we have to put a weapon in everyone's hands, even the old and the children."

"They would be a liability, you know that!"

"What other choices do we have?"

"Excuse me, gentlemen?"

They all turned around towards Craig who had spoken out.

"If you have a lack of manpower, you should reduce the area of battle and force the enemy to fight on your terms. The city doors seem to be the best spot." He pointed out on the displayed map.

"Excuse me, but _who_ are you?" The head of the dyers' guild asked in a blatantly disdainful tone.

"Feldspar. I'm the one who informed the burgomaster about the Goblins."

"I understand you have a grasp of strategy?" Said burgomaster said in return.

"I did. I was...in Telos during the war. Learnt many things on the field."

Tweek threw him an amused glance. The understatement of the century to be sure.

"As you can see we are mostly merchants, not generals. We'll take all the help we can get."

"The only way inside the city is through the gates, so you'll only need to defend that precise part of the walls. Take all the firepower available and put it there with men taking turns. It will allow your warriors to still be in good shape once the Goblins get too close."

"If they get too close."

"Oh trust me, they will, headmaster."

"This doesn't solve our problem. If the tide breaks in, how can we hope to contain it?"

"Then have three rows of warriors form a half circle past the gate. If the Goblin push is too strong, allow them to slowly walk back and tell the crossbowmen on the walls to turn around and shoot everything they have at them. Considering the Goblins' lack of gut they'll probably run away with their tail between their legs."

The members of the council remained silent, pondering whether or not this was a sound strategy.

"So that's it? We're putting our lives into the hands of some random adventurer?" the master of the dyers' guild said.

"Maybe his excellency has another plan he wishes to share with us?" Craig deadpanned.

"Well no, but...I hope that you know what you are doing! You could have us all killed!"

"I understand your concern, but you don't really have a choice, do you? Or maybe you're aiming to cut the Goblins down with scissors?"

Some members put a hand on their mouths to muffle a snicker. The burgomaster cleared his throat.

"Very well Feldspar. Let us prepare ourselves for battle. We have many things to do and few time left."

O.O.O.O.O

A day passed during which the couple rested for a few hours, for they had many things to do. Tweek helped to dig and place traps in the plains surrounding the city and also studied the best places where he could provide covering fire.

The Dwarven troops wore armor and weapons of the highest quality but the same couldn't be said for the Humans and Elves who would fight at their side. Craig advised that it would be better to post them on the walls to fire projectiles and let the Dwarfs to the hand-to-hand fighting.

"Do you have enough bows?" the raven asked when reviewing the troops.

"You still rely on bows were you come from? Oh, that's...a bit rustic." an Elf militiaman said.

"Then what do you shoot arrows with? Crossbows only?"

"We do have crossbows but we prefer handguns."

"Excuse me, you have _what?_ "

(8)

"Handguns? Gunpowder? Does that not ring a bell?"

Apparently not, for Craig's face was pure confusion. The Elf presented him his own weapon: a carved object made of wood and metal, as long as an arm and with a hole at the end.

"Dwarf craftsmanship, you won't find any better. Put it into the hands of an Elf sharpshooter and it becomes the deadliest thing ever."

"Oi pointy ears will ye stop boastin' for a moment?" a Dwarf yelled at the back.

The Elf ignored him and put the gun in Craig's hands. He then pointed at a practice dummy on the other side of the courtyard.

"Try it. It's already loaded. Just be careful, it's gonna let off smoke as it go-"

A loud BANG rang into his hears and scared an unfortunate goat to death. He chased the white smoke with a handwave.

"Well you already figured out how to shoot, that's a first..."

"The dummy's head has been blown to bits! This is...this is fucking prodigious!" Craig giggled like a child in front of a new toy.

He pulled the trigger again and the flint struck, but nothing came out.

"You have to reload it first, sir."

"Oh."

O.O.O.O.O

(9)

The sun was setting behind the hills when the irritating shriek of Goblin trumpets echoed through the plains.

Soon after, the Goblin host flooded the place. Thousands of warriors, followed by siege towers and catapults. The Greenskins had a rudimentary understanding of siege warfare, which often resulted in their war machines being as deadly for them as for the enemy. Their towers looked rather like a pile of nailed wood, as did their catapults, which they adequately named "rock lobbas", because it threw big rocks at the enemy and that was kind of it. The machines were just a side of the coin however. Trolls would be by far the biggest threat to the city's doors, and there were about fifteen of them on the field that evening.

"Boss, da ladz are ready!"

"Attack! Smash'em!"

The trumpets echoed the order and the green tide advanced towards the city.

"Take out the siege towers, they are of the utmost priority!" Craig's voice roared over the walls.

"FIRE AT WILL!"

A few seconds later, the deafening roar of the cannons filled the area, shooting the nearest enemy tower to pieces.

"RELOAD! HANDGUNNERS MAKE READY!"

While the sharpshooters went into position, the Goblins counter-attacked with their own devices; soon stones were flying over the defender's heads or crashing against the walls.

Another volley destroyed two other towers, leaving only one.

"Send in da trolls!" Boss Zanik fulminated at the rear, "An' send de ladz to soak up deir fire!"

The whole army was sent on a mad rush to the walls with the trolls leading the charge. The ground was shaking like it was being struck by a sudden earthquake and the Greenskins left a cloud of dust in their path, disrupting the artillery's work on both sides.

Craig took his crossbow and shot upwards, the quarrel exploding in a bright shade of red in the sky. That was the signal for Tweek to spring into action.

The blond lifted his staff and began harnessing the power of the last rays of the sun, the boy's body feeding on the solar energy, glowing with a golden aura that blinded anyone who set eyes upon him. Then, with a single wave of his staff, shot five bolts of light at high speed into the sky. The projectiles reached their peak and began a nosedive towards five precise spots on the Goblin-filled plain. The bolts crashed into the ground, setting caches of Dwarf explosives and gunpowder on fire.

The shockwave was so intense that the nearest trees were blown away. Five columns of fire incinerated hundreds of Goblins on the spot, lighting the plain a bright orange. This only incited their more fortunate friends to skidaddle even faster towards the walls, whereas the trolls aimed at the doors.

"FIRE!"

The sharpshooters unloaded a thunderous volley of bullets, reducing the three first trolls to pincushions. Another one was cut down thanks to the precise crossbow fire of the Dwarf rangers, who never went to combat before having emptied a mug of beer at least. Since the other trolls had been burned to a crisp by Tweek's trap, only five trolls actually made it to the city doors, but their reduced numbers didn't put a halt to their advance: they smashed them opens with their clubs and their own weight, allowing wave upon wave of Goblins to pour inside the city. At the same time, the last tower reached the walls and unloaded its own share of Greenskins onto the walls. The fighting would be fierce everywhere.

(10)

The trolls swung their maces into the shieldwall, sending dozens of infortunate souls flying high into the air. Their path of destruction was quickly covered by the hordes of advancing hordes of Goblins.

"FILL THE GAPS! DO NOT LET THEM FLANK US!"

The Dwarfs held fast and stood shield-to-shield against the invader. The Goblins hurled themselves against them in a vain attempt to break theam, only to be cut down and to join the growing piles of bodies.

Brought to his wit's end by the bad results of his troops, Zanik himself joined the fray atop his domesticated Warg. Not to fight on the frontlines, however. Along with his own guards, he avoided the main fight thanks to the swiftness of their mounts and aimed straight at the plazza to execute some "sneaky tactiks" and decapitate the enemy's leadership – quite literally.

The sudden arrival of rabid wolves spread panic amongst the crowd, leaving the council and the burgomaster open to an attack. Their few bodyguards were cut to pieces by Zanik and his retinue in a lightning strike and soon nobody but bloody corpses stood between them.

"Kill'em! An' less' take deir shiny things!"

The Goblins spurred their mounts and they leaped on their defenseless preys who let out a cry of terror. However, the beasts and their riders took off like bullets in the opposite direction.

"Not while I live." Tweek stepped in, his body glowing with magicka.

He uttered an incantation and raised a shield around the council members.

The remaining Goblins charged only for their eyes and brains to be fried in a single blinding spell. Only Boss Zanik remained as he sent his Warg away, gripping his cleaver.

The boss jumped forward and stroke a series of blow that Tweek parried with his staff. The Goblin's assaults were fast and furious, he would be far more tricky to dispose of since Tweek was no melee fighter. The blond also had to constantly maintain the shield and doing so was depleting his magicka quickly.

In an explosion of sparks, Zanik's sword cut Tweek's staff in half. Having lost his balance, the young mage couldn't dodge the low strike at his legs. Even though the slash wasn't deep, it was enough to send him on his knees and at the mercy of his adversary. The Goblin punched him to the ground, threw his sword aside and unseathed a knife from his belt.

"I'll poke yer eyes out!" he spat at his face as he stood over him.

A loud bang was heard in the distance and a second later, Tweek's vision was blurred by a splash of blood. The first thing he saw after wiping his face was Zanik's corpse next to him, his brains leaking out from his broken skull. The next was Craig holding a fuming handgun in his hands.

"Get your hands off _my_ Tweek, you green sack of shit."

He kicked the Goblin's head and it rolled a few feet away. He then helped Tweek back to his feet, while the latter finally dropped the shield protecting the council.

"Are you alright honey?"

"Y-yes...t-thanks to you. I'm starting to loose count of how many times we saved one another."

"Is that a competition?"

"I'd rather not have one, honestly..."

"VICTORY! THEY'RE RUNNING FOR THE HILLS!"

(11)

They hurried back to the walls, only to see a mountain of dead Goblins surrounded by rejoicing inhabitants. The fleeing Goblins were shot down by the Sharpshooters like rabbits and the Greenskins' numbers had been reduced to meer hundreds, scattered and unable to pose any threat. The city was saved.

The smell of burning Greenskin flesh was rather unpleasant but the victors cared not; they set the pile of bodies on fire, eager to neutralise any disease they might carry with them and to avenge the victims. The Dwarfs got the barrels of beer out while the Elves and the Humans tended to the feast's preparations. The streets who moments ago were still filled by warcries and the shriek of metal were now bursting with cries of joy and relief.

"Looks like you didn't lose your gift for successful plans." Tweek chuckled before pecking his lover's cheek.

"Wouldn't have done it without you. We make an outstanding team." he smiled back.

"Outstanding indeed!"

They turned around to see Burgomaster Varf and the rest of the council join them.

"Feldspar, Tweek, the whole city is in your debt. Without your talents we'd be all dead, you have turned a desperate last stand into a glorious victory that the bards will sing about for generations to come!" he congratulated them, shaking their hands vigorously.

"We did the best we could. Thank the Gods it was enough."

"Your modesty is admirable. However, we aren't finished." the head of the woodcutters' guild continued.

"By my right as Burgomaster and by the grace of the council, we both name you Thanes of Urbaz Zon! It is a honorary title that prooves your worth as saviors of this city and as great heroes!"

The couple exchanged an awkward look. Were they supposed to answer a simple thank you?

"We...er..."

"Now now enough talk! It is time to join the others for the feast! We will all raise our mugs in your honor!"

They left the couple, who were still a bit confused by everything that was going one.

"Guess we're heroes now." Craig let out.

"Yeah. Doesn't it feel good though? It's like being back at the court."

"Mmh yes...but it's better now that we can celebrate together."

He brought Tweek into an embrace.

"Shall we go then?"

"Yeah."

They went on to celebrate till the sun rose again, hand in hand.

 


	6. The Hunt Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack :  
> 1: Witch Hunts - Novigrad Exploration 1  
> 2: The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt - Velen Nature Theme Extended - Unofficial Soundtrack  
> 3: The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt - Official Soundtrack #24 - Yes, I do ...  
> 4: same as track 1  
> 5: The Night Is Dark (Game of Thrones - Season 3 OST)  
> 6: Game of Thrones Season 5 Soundtrack 03 - House of Black and White  
> 7: Yog-Sothoth: H.P. Lovecraft Orchestral Horror Music  
> 8: The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt OST - Commanding the Fury

(1)

A flash of light struck the fields near Kingsrock. A few moments later, Kyle, Stan and a retinue of mageblades stepped out of the maelstrom, only for it to vanish as quickly as it appeared.

"Ew, you can already smell the shit from here!" Kyle chocked, "Let's get this over with quickly!"

It didn't take them long to enter the city, which was abuzz as usual.

"Happy to return home? Kyle eyed Stan sideways.

"Not really...it's...different," he replied, somewhat disturbed, "There is something foul and heavy in the air, I can't figure out what it is."

"I think you'll have answers soon."

They arrived at the great plaza, where hundreds of townsfolk had gathered. Before them and on top of a podium, a witch hunter was making a vehement speech, next to four people standing still with a noose around their neck.

"...So will be the end of everyone who collaborated with the queen's enemies! Lord Eric Cartman shall not rest until each and single one of the conspirators, wherever they might be, have been brought to justice!"

He threw a side-glance at the hangman who pulled the lever next to him. The hatches opened and the condemned fell to a certain death. Their bodies twitched for a brief moment, in vain; it took only a minute for them to suffocate.

"The possession of forbidden objects is also a grave offence! Anyone who keeps books or parchments praising the usurper shall be burnt at the stake with his wretched lectures!"

The crowd scattered, leaving the main street wide open for the retinue to reach the castle. If they were eyed suspiciously by the regiments of soldiers patrolling the streets, the civilians were openly hostile to them, often spitting at their feet and outright insulting them. The mageblades formed a circle around their lord to completely shield him from outside threats. Only a glare from these tall and ironclad warriors was enough to discourage any troublemaker, otherwise he would certainly end up cleaved in twain by their enchanted claymores.

"And these are supposed to be your people?" Kyle let out with contempt.

"They weren't like this before. Craig's venom has left its mark, that's all." Stan retorted.

"Well it seems our common friend is doing everything in his power to root it out, even the memory of his existence."

"Not that I complain but..."

They passed by the calcinated remains of several stakes, tossed at the corner of the street.

"...I wonder how many people will have to die like this."

They finally reached Goldencrest, patrolled by soldiers clad in black and red, the colors of House Cartman. A witch hunter greeted them at the doors.

"Prince Kyle, this is an honor. The queen is ready to receive you, follow me please."

O.O.O.O.O

(2)

From her experience, the nicest façade often concealed the ugliest truth.

That is exactly what went through Heidi's head as her carriage entered the Cliff. Through the window, the town of Redfield was visible in the distance. On both sides of the road, blooming orchards were being tended to by the peasants of the nearby hamlets.

The carriage slowed down and finally came to a halt. The huntress adjusted the flower on her hat and stepped out with her colleagues. Her boots were already sullied by mud, for it had rained all night.

"Welcome to Redfield, Hunters," the Coachman said, "hope you'll enjoy yourself."

"We most certainly will. Farewell."

With a single kiss of the lash, the carriage was away. The Witch Hunters made their way to the town square, where they aimed to find an inn. The town was a change of scenery for Heidi; she had mostly been patrolling Kingsrock and its surroundings, but nothing quite like the towns of the South-West. Redfield was more of a large village than a city, home to barely more than a thousand souls. Despite its small size, it was now the de facto capital of the Cliff, where the new lord and lady of the Cliff held court, even if their rule had been put into jeopardy by the turning tides at the capital.

The view actually reminded her of her native Eastmarch, albeit less gloomy. She brushed the memory of her hated home away as she didn’t want to get lost in contemplation.

She found an inn without too much of a hustle, rented four rooms for three days in advance and let her heavy bag there before going back out. The first thing to do when arriving in a new place was catching the latest news. Fortunately for her, several notice boards around the town square would be quick to reveal the latest gossips around town. Most of it was worthless; some peasant complaining about someone stealing his favorite goat, a new tailor making self-promotion and other boring day-to-day things. One finally managed to catch her attention:

_To all able bounty-hunters, adventurers and sellswords,_

_A dangerous but handsomely-paid treasure hunt awaits in the Southern Spine. Lord Donovan will receive you personally to communicate the terms of the mission and negotiate your reward._

_EDITO: This contract has already been accepted and is therefore outdated._

Heidi tore the notice away and put it in her pocket. She then turned towards her three fellow hunters.

“Let’s get the job started. Spread out and ask the villagers about unusual happenings or anything out of the ordinary. I’ll handle the nobility.”

The three hunters nodded and did as they were told while Heidi headed for the castle, where she was greeted by two guards at the doors.

"Halt! State your business."

"I am here on official matters," she said holding out the letter Cartman gave her, "and I request an audience with Lady Stevens."

One of the guards took the letter and unfolded it, quickly scanning its content.

"Alright miss, in you go."

"Thank you."

She proceeded inside and a servant greeted her at the door. She followed him deeper into the castle until they reached a large room, filled with bookshelves surrounding a reading space composed of several sofas and a coffee table. Large bay windows taking up most of the rear wall assured a constant supply of light and warmth to the guests.

"Please have a seat, I shall notify Lady Donovan of your presence."

The servant left her behind. She threw a quick glance at the library’s content, having little hope of finding anything of use. After all, Clyde was not as stupid as to display heretical tomes in plain sight. Eventually, she had to stop her investigation when she heard footsteps in the nearby corridor. The door opened and Bebe stepped in, a broad smile on her lips. (3)

_The hypocrisy of nobles never fails to amaze me._

“Welcome to our modest home, Miss…”

“Turner.”

“Miss Turner! Please have a seat, would you like some tea and biscuits?”

“With pleasure.”

Bebe clapped her hands and the servants went out like wild dogs.

“May I ask you what brings you here?”

“Work, I’m afraid. We have been notified of an alarming number of fell creatures in the area. I have been dispatched to find its source – and destroy it.”

The servants brought them cups filled with a hot beverage along with an assortment of pastries on a silver tray. Some of them were completely unknown to Heidi, but Bebe’s sweet tooth was near legendary, sometimes hiring cooks from the lands far to the South to quench her thirst for new sugary delights.

“It is true that the villagers have been complaining about animal attacks more than usual. You’d better talk with my husband about it, sadly he’s out hunting for the day.”

“When will he be back?”

“Tonight. Why don’t you join us for dinner then? I’m sure it will be a good way to conclude your day of investigations.”

“Gladly. I haven’t enjoyed a proper meal for days!”

_Into the Lion’s den then._

O.O.O.O.O

(4)

"I have to say this is a surprise. Everyone thought you dead since long ago, Lord Marsh."

"Her Grace is not disappointed, I hope."

"Of course not. The time we were enemies is long past now. Please, have a seat with us."

The room of the small council had been abandoned for months, fortunately the servants had dusted it out beforehand. Kyle and Stan took place at the table in front of Cartman and Marjorine while servants brought them refreshments.

"You will have full access to the crypts, but I would ask you to let everything as undisturbed as possible." Marjorine said.

"We are no grave robbers, Your Grace, " Kyle reassured, "it is highly improbable the object we are looking for rests with one of your ancestors. We will be cautious."

"What about our common enemy in the North?" Cartman questioned.

"Belenoc has raised a host and is currently marching towards their capital, as you demanded. However, it is highly unlikely that either McCormick or the bastard will be taken alive."

"So be it. We have been merciful enough."

Marjorine took a pause to take a sip of wine.

"This will allow Lord Cartman's army to move safely against the South. The country will be united again by the end of the year."

"I trust there will be no further problems afterwards?" Kyle asked with an inquisitive look.

"No, the people are relatively content. The main problem are the traitorous lords inciting them to rise up against us." Marjorine explained, only to be interrupted by a guard barging in the room.

"Your Grace! The folk are at the gates, they are threatening to invade the palace!"

Kyle couldn't hold a scoff.

"Relatively content. I see."

Marjorine apologized and left the room to take care of the problem. The three others went on her trail and soon found themselves in a besieged courtyard.

The guards were pushing back civilians with their shields, only for them to fight back even harder and hurl stones at them.

"What has gotten into them?!" Marjorine questioned one of her guards.

"Some thugs have riled them up, Your Grace! It's as if they were blood-crazed!"

"Push them back, at any cost. We cannot show weakness, not today!"

The order was relayed. The use of lethal force had been authorized.

The first townsfolk to perish were shot down by the archers on the walls, quickly followed by the ones stabbed to death by the guards. The crowd quickly scattered in fear, leaving maimed corpses and blood pools behind them. Marjorine was watching the scene, distraught. So distraught in fact, that Stan stood behind her in case she would collapse.

"I don't understand..." she whispered to herself, "...such a thing never happened before. Why did they throw themselves against the guards like this?"

"Your Grace, are you alright?"

Marjorine snapped out of it and glanced at Stan.

"I...yes, thank you. If you will excuse me, I have to be on my own for a little while."

She quickly went back into the castle, leaving Kyle, Stan and Cartman on their own. Cartman let out a sigh, gripping his clutch tighter.

"The poor girl cannot take it anymore."

"Everyone would be shaken at that sight." Stan argued.

"Yes, but what about all the things she already had to live through? I fear her mental health is degrading as time passes."

"Don't tell me you pity her,  _you_ of all people." Kyle cut him off, dubious.

"Really Kahl, I also have a heart you know!" he put a hand on his chest with exaggerated pathos, "I'm just worried about her unpredictable behavior!"

"Unpredictable?" he raised his eyebrow.

"She wanted to reign on her own but even with my help it has proved to be overwhelming for her. Not to mention her burning desire for revenge against all who have wronged her in the past..."

"Surprising, considering your current position." the elf brought up.

Cartman threw him an annoyed glare.

"Anyways, I am the one who allowed you to come here. At first, she didn't want you anywhere near her dear father's and brother's resting place."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, she thought you would be desecrating the place, but eventually I talked her into the more reasonable solution."

"So that's why she kept asking for us not to disturb anything, I see."

Stan eyed Kyle, not sure of what to think of this situation. As for the redhead, he remained engrossed in his own thoughts, processing the information. He suddenly seemed to realize something and threw a death glare at Cartman.

"So once again, you sell the trust someone put into you to the highest bidder."

"I'll do everything in my power for my country to prosper."

"Should anything happen to Marjorine, I suppose you would be glad to take her place, am I wrong?"

"I was actually thinking about Stan."

Stan and Kyle were taken aback by the statement. The raven gave the Elf a puzzled look to which the latter could only reply with an even more confused gaze. Cartman himself, giving up the so coveted prize to someone else?

"Me?"

"The people still has a lot of respect for you and you can keep your head cool under pressure. You are also a skilled warrior and a leader of men, the last great son of House Marsh. I'm sure that the crown can flourish under your leadership, and the people will flock to your banner."

"And that's it? Nothing else?"

"Keep me as Hand of the King, that's all. Please do consider my offer, not as Hand but as a friend."

"I'll...I'll think about it."

Cartman nodded and bid them farewell, disappearing behind the castle gates like a shadow. Kyle let out an exasperated sigh.

"This land is far more trouble than it's worth.”

O.O.O.O.O

(5)

A few hours later, Heidi found herself in the dining room, waiting in front of the hearth. On top of it was displayed a painting; a portrait of Clyde and Bebe that had been recently finished. Bebe was sitting on a comfortable chair, one hand resting on the armrest, the other adjusting a lock of hair near her diadem. Standing next to her, Clyde was looking intensely in front of him, a faint smile on his lips and a hand resting on his wife’s shoulder.

“I’m quite proud of how it turned out.”

Heidi turned around and saw Lord Donovan approaching. For a low-born, he had blended remarkably well within the nobility, for his demeanor was assertive and often resulted in admirative looks from his subjects.

“You can be. It is a lovely portrait.” Heidi added politely.

“Thank you. I hardly can wait to see another one with children.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Expecting children, are you?”

“Not yet, but we will once all the agitation in Telos has settled down.”

“I see. May this chaos soon stop, then.”

The rest of the guests arrived, thus ending their conversation. They all took place around the dining table, already filled with tempting dishes. At the center, the boar Clyde had hunted down that very afternoon had been turned into a delicious looking roast.

As the dinner proceeded and as wine flowed, the couple tried to break the ice further with Heidi.

“There are a lot of stories about you, Miss Turner, “Clyde said, “the story of the little girl from Eastmarch who has become the most skilled Witch Hunter to patrol these lands.”

“The tale must be exaggerated, like all folk stories…” the young woman answered, “I was lucky enough for Lord Cartman to take me under his wing in my time of need.”

“How kind of him,” Bebe commented, “not what we are used to hear about the man.”

“Everybody has several facets. If only you knew of all the respected and admired men I’ve met, only to discover them indulging themselves in the most despicable ways when nobody watched.”

She threw a side glance at Clyde, only to notice his grasp on his goblet tighten.

"But it goes both ways. Sometimes all we need to do is just wait and see."

“I’ve met some of these people a few days ago,” he admitted, “a group of adventurers I hired to fetch some Dwarf artifacts in the mountains to the South. They wanted way more than the sum I offered to begin with and they…started revolting, plundering everything on their way. Last we heard, they are still hiding in the forest behind the graveyard.”

“That would explain the attacks and the noises your subjects complain about.”

“If only I could so something! My men are terrified to go near the graveyard, they say it’s haunted since the mercenaries have been hiding there!”

“I see. Then me and my team shall investigate tomorrow. There must be some sort of link between my mission and your rogue mercenaries.”

“Then let’s raise our glasses to you and your team. May you deliver our lands from evil!”

The other guests cheered and drank in unison.

_Funny, the man looks sincere. He looks more like a bon vivant than a seeker of dark powers…_

“You know,” he began, his finger circling the rim of his goblet, “we are much alike. We both raised ourselves by our work.”

Heidi couldn’t hold back a scoff.

“True. But as you can see, we took completely opposite paths.”

The dinner continued until the moon was high in the sky. Heidi was one of the last guests to leave the keep and thanked the Lords for their warm welcome.

“Do let us know if you find anything.” Clyde said as she was about to leave.

She glanced over her shoulder while adjusting her hat, a grin curving her lips.

“Don't worry My Lord, you'll be the first one to know.”

She passed the door, disappearing into the night with the other guests.

While the servants cleaned up the dining room, Bebe joined Clyde in the library, where she found him staring at an old map of Mediflumina with a rare intensity. Crumbling papyri were spread all over his desk, filled with strange drawings that only looked like gibberish to her.

“She knows, I’m sure of it.” The brunet declared once he noticed his wife’s presence.

“What are we going to do then?”

“Make her disappear.”

“It will only bring more of them to our doorstep!” Bebe protested, horrified, “The Dominion has already sent an army to deal with the McCormicks, we can’t afford this fight!”

“We can if we go fetch Craig and Tweek. Token has already arranged Ruby’s return and secured an alliance with the King of Lys. I’ll send someone to the islands to get them back safely here, all we need do is buy time.”

“What about the North?”

“I’ve talked with Douchebag. He says the situation could go either way and that it depends from the forces the Elves throw at them.”

Bebe let the information sink in. It felt awfully like the beginning of the end, the calm before the storm. Clyde noticed her disarray and stroke her cheek gently.

“I won’t let anyone harm you, be it Cartman or one of his pawns. The relics the adventurers brought back have granted me great powers. I’ll be powerful enough to save us all.”

He locked eyes with her, passing a finger on her lips.

“I promise we’ll make it through, my love.”

She smiled at him.

“I know we will.” She whispered before going in for a tender kiss.

“I’ll go to bed early tonight. Just wait for me for a few minutes.”

She nodded and left the room, not without throwing a last glance from over her shoulder.

Clyde stood before the window, watching dark clouds gather to bloat out the moon.

“I promise you mom…I won’t fail her like I failed you.”

O.O.O.O.O

(6)

The following day, The Witch Hunters left town to follow the trail leading to the graveyard. At first glance, nothing seemed out of place, but Heidi knew better than anyone else that appearances were deceiving.

The graveyard was rather large, with dozens of graves lying next to one another. Taller mausoleums stood at the crossroads and their stairs led deep into the ground, where more elaborate sepultures could be found. The trees around the place were blackened and their branches were oddly shaped, as if they tried to break free from their own bough. The sky was a dark grey, a storm would soon brake out. Dozens of crows were cackling on top of the tombstones.

Heidi thought herself back in Eastmarch, a land famed for the many dangers it hosted, and also for its many gardens devoted to Hel, the god of death and the afterlife.

The earth around several graves was fresh, some tombstones were broken, she doubted the corpses were still down there. Someone had dug them up methodically and did Gods-know-what with them. As she crouched and took a handful of dirt, forgotten memories came back to her.

Graveyards had defined her childhood, she who was a daughter of grave robbers. They wandered from grave to grave, trying to dig up something valuable to sell and perhaps, finally, have a chance to buy food for the three of them. Not the kind of sane environment a child could grow up in, but Heidi never complained about it. It was the way things were and she helped her parents whenever they needed her.

It was already so long ago.

“Captain! Captain!”

“Hm? What is it?”

“Someone is coming from the woods!”

She turned her head, only to see a dozen of hauberk-wearing men charge them, their cries tearing the silence of the place apart.

“SAMUM!”

The three hunters obeyed their captain’s orders and threw small bombs that exploded in a flash of light. Utterly blinded by the attack, the attackers were cut down mercilessly by their enemies’ falchions. However, there were still a dozen of them and they rushed to their targets. A furious melee followed, but the Witch Hunters were all veterans, making short work of their opponents.

Heidi received a bad hit and was disarmed. Feeling he was about to win, her opponent swung her sword at her but to no avail, she deflected with the silver plate on the back of her arm and then punched him several times over before finishing him with a kick to the face, sending him slam headfirst into the dirt. She then grabbed him by the collar.

“NO! PLEASE NO MORE! I BEG YOU!” he cried out, his face covered in blood and mud.

“Attacking a Witch Hunter on duty is an offence punishable by death, why should I let you live?”

“I can tell you everything! We’re not necromancers! I swear!”

She released her grip on him and he fell flat on his butt. The other hunters reunited and stood behind their captain.

“I know you aren’t, necromancers usually aren’t a bunch of amateurs like you. Speak! Who hired you and why?”

“We are a group of mercenaries. We’ve been hired by the local lord to guard this graveyard against any trespassers.”

“The local lord, you say? And why is this graveyard so important to him?”

“He’s been taking a chest down the mausoleum one night, I don’t know anything else!”

Heidi looked satisfied and with a flick of her finger commanded two of her colleagues to follow her. She then threw a quick glance at the third one.

“Dispose of him.”

“NO PLEASE I—”

He was silenced when the hunter’s dagger slit his throat.

A few moments later, they were standing in front of the mausoleum. They cautiously opened the door and went in. After going downstairs, they ended up in a room centered around a massive marble coffin surrounded by lit candles and dried flowers. A statue of Hel stood behind the coffin, his stone gaze looking away from it. Empty holes dug into the walls indicated that other smaller coffins might have rested here in the past.

“Take your amulets and get ready. We’re opening it.”

The hunters gripped the little pendants swinging around their necks. They were made of Zirrite, an extremely rare mineral that completely negated magic upon touch, and thus highly valuable for hunting down mages. The amulets represented a spiral with four arms inside a circle, the symbol of the Tetrarchy that also adorned the signature hats of the hunters.

With a big shove, the lid of the coffin fell heavily out of the way, revealing its content; no corpses or bones there, only old books, torn out pages and strange looking objects of unknown origin.

“I knew it.” Heidi said while taking the nearest book.

Her heart skipped a beat. Everything fell silent in the room as nobody dared to speak. She had recognized the book she was holding.

"Captain?"

That decayed leather cover, that rancid smell!

The smell of that day.

O.O.O.O.O

(7)

_13 years ago_

_Somewhere in Eastmarsh_

Never had they found such a cave before.

It was bigger than any graveyard they had ever visited; dug deep into the ground, the cave was the huge resting place of an army long dead and forgotten. Who knew what riches awaited them beneath the earth?

“Let’s get to work! We’ll be able to eat for more than a week!” Heidi’s father cheered.

“Now Heidi, just like usual, dig up anything that shines. Don’t get too far though!” her mother instructed.

The little girl nodded and eagerly went to accomplish her mission, shovel and bag in hand. Finally, they would sleep with a roof on their heads and with food on their plates, away from the mud and the cold.

Heidi dug her shovel next to a massive tombstone that was bigger and more elaborately sculpted than the others. After a few minutes of digging, the first bones began to appear. It was at that moment that she noticed something strange; a kind of green smoke was spreading from deeper into the cave. It had no smell, only a disturbingly vivid green color.

Heidi couldn’t resist and let her curiosity guide her on the dark path. The noises that her parent’s tools made were growing faint as she made her way down. The fumes soon led to a big circular room, much like an amphitheater that one could find in universities, lit by a pallid green light in its center. Very close to its source, a tall, dominating shadow. Approaching carefully, the little girl creeped from behind a rock, both excited and anxious as to what she was about to discover.

Suddenly, a noise distorted the silence and froze the blood in her veins; her legs grew faint and she gripped the rock as not to fall down.

It was a voice like none other. It didn’t sound human, it didn’t sound  _natural_ . No words could describe the horrid, cavernous, monstrous cacophony of sounds that only came out as a deep, otherworldly howl. The unintelligible sound sent waves of pure anxiety at the little girl, who believed her final hour had come, one Eldritch syllable at a time.

The hooded figure’s litany continued as it raised its arm, holding a grimoire in its hand. Purple orbs made their way from the book to the dozen of skeletal remains scattered on the floor. And then, the unthinkable happened. The dead raised themselves from the ground, walking the earth like puppets devoid of strings.

Heidi didn’t know what caused her to be discovered; her frantic breathing or her heart striving to free itself from her ribcage. Whichever it was; the figure turned around abruptly, causing her heart to stop. She had to run or she would die from heart failure before that thing could reach her.

All became blurry around her as she fled. The ringing in her ears was deafening.

“Heidi?! What’s happening?!”

The girl just realized that she had bumped into her parents. Unable to respond, she merely pointed at the abyss from whence she came and burst into tears.

“Please calm down!”

As the mother tried to calm down her daughter, her husband saw the horde of animated bones coming straight towards them. Floating in their midst, a dominating figure in purple robes, like some sort of cultist from a deranged cult.

“GET OUT! LEAVE EVERYTHING AND GET OUT!”

The tombstones next to them broke, freeing more undead from their depths. A ray of light from the surface was their only salvation, but what would it take to reach it? The growing horde of moving bodies was already encircling them. Heidi’s mother grabbed her daughter’s shoulders and embraced her as hard as she could.

“Run. Run and save yourself. We will buy you the time you need.”

She wanted to protest but resigned herself to obey. Leaving everything behind, she ran past the undead that were too slow to grab her and reached the exit.

But the puppet master, like a shadow, appeared right before her, his decrepit hand holding his blasphemous grimoire. She couldn’t see his face, it was as if a grotesque mass of darkness had taken human form without a face. Perhaps it was better this way, for if such a face existed, anyone would have gone mad by merely looking upon it.

“THE GIRL SHALL SEE.”

O.O.O.O.O

With a shaking hand, she put the book into her satchel. She exhaled painfully, as if a mere touch of the book had gazed through her soul and absorbed a part of her being. The other hunters didn’t know if they should react or just wait for her to regain her composure. Eventually, the later happened as Heidi swallowed and turned back to face her teammates, showing her usual impassive expression.

“We have found what we’ve been looking for. Let’s go finish this.”

(8)

Suddenly, they were startled by a deafening howl coming from the surface. They rushed back up, only to end up in a storm. As thunder roared through the skies, howls of pain echoed once more in the graveyard, then some graves turned into dust. In a flash of green flames, ethereal beings emerged from beneath the earth; wearing long robes, their faces hidden beneath a hood or behind a wooden mask. Floating in the air towards the Witch Hunters, they summoned their weapons in another ghastly howl.

“Wraiths! Fucking wonderful…” cursed Heidi before grabbing her silver rapier.

“The snake! He knew the mercenaries would not be enough, so he summoned the ghosts to finish the work!” another hunter said.

“Not surprising, he got his hands on a particularly vicious grimoire, even the captain was shaken when she took it!”

“For Malyna’s love, Shut up and FIGHT!”

A ghost raised its blade and unleashed a series of surprisingly fast strikes, forcing the hunters to spread out. Heidi found herself cornered by two vengeful spirits. Since wraiths were immaterial, steel, poison or fire couldn’t harm them. Only a blade of pure silver could tear through their ethereal bodies. The first wraith vanished, letting the remaining one attack their target with a wide sword swipe. Heidi dodged with ease but fell in the enemy’s trap when the first ghost reappeared behind her, ready to stab her in the back. She quickly rolled out of the way, jumped back on her feet and slashed the nearest ghost three times with her rapier before bouncing away in a defensive position. The wounded wraith growled in pain and charged, enraged, only to be neutralized by a rapier strike straight through the eye. Letting out a final howl of pain, the spirit disintegrated in a shower of green flames, leaving nothing but ashes. The second wraith attempted to avenge its companion, but the huntress rolled away from its attack. As soon as she recovered her balance, she took hold of one of the silver daggers hanging from her belt and threw it at the enemy, hitting it in the chest. The wraith’s body rejected the dagger, letting it fall flat on the ground, but the monster had been badly wounded. It didn’t get time to recover; the next second, it was defending against Heidi’s relentless sword strikes. Weakened, the wraith couldn’t resist the girl’s attacks indefinitely; the latter finally broke her enemy’s guard and unleashed three stabbing attacks, which proved enough to send the ghost to rest, this time permanently.

The other hunters were slowly but surely gaining ground, slaying the evil spirits one by one until none were left. Only the sound of thunder and the slap of the rain on the cold stone remained.

“Hunters, report!” Heidi commanded, sheathing her weapon.

“No casualties, captain. The graveyard is secured.”

“Good. Let’s get back to the inn and resupply. Prepare yourself with care.”

Heidi grabbed the forbidden tome from inside her bag and threw a quick glance at it. A mere look on its rotten cover was enough to fill her whole body with rage and disgust.

“Tonight, we fight the real monster.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About the timeline, I know this might be a bit confusing, but every chapter until now has covered the same time span (around 8-9 months since the end of Book 1). For exemple, when Clyde mentions that he talked with Alex, it is an event that we have yet to cover in the next North chapter. Don't worry, in the end everything will tie up together!  
> Also if you are wondering what inspired me for the Necromancer's voice, well first H.P Lovecraft (Ïa Ïa!) and then the "voice" of Darth Nihilus from the Star Wars Kotor II game (you can look it up on Youtube)  
> Last but not least, thank you for reading and for leaving kind reviews <3  
> See you next week :)


	7. What Lies Beneath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter isn't a blatant parody of a very meme-full and marvelous movie at all. I promise.  
> Soundtrack:  
> 1: The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt OST (Unreleased Tracks) - A Magic Cave [Extended]  
> 2: I am the Senate (Unused Score)

(1)

The Saryonix cristal hovered above Kyle's palm, glowing ever stronger as they went down the royal crypt. It was only a matter of time before they got their hands on another piece of the puzzle.

The Elven retinue made its way through the dark alleys of stone, earth and decayed mausoleums, some of them dating back to a thousand years. The air was damp and heavy, smelled like bones and secrets that should never be unearthed. The unnverving sound of digging could be heard behind the walls, as if hordes of rats were following them from beneath the earth. Kyle remembered his mother's tales when he didn't want to obey her; stories about a race of malevolent ratmen who would dug their way up to the surface and snatch naughty children during the night. Of course, such tales were nothing but fantasy.

But fiction always hides some measure of truth.

They eventually reached a dead end, where stood a massive monument in memory of a king from the second dynasty.

“Wait...the tombs are in chronological order...why would someone from the second dynasty be so far away?” Stan brought up.

“Then it must be the key. Spread up and search for clues; this must be some kind of ruse.” Kyle ordered.

The monument was a statue of a man and his dog, both of them looking straight at the other end of the tunnel. The man stood triumphant, one arm high in the air and the other resting on his loyal companion's head. As for the dog itself, it held a piece of stone in its mouth, but the shape was too odd to be part of the ensemble. Stan noticed it and took hold of the object, taking it out with ease. It was in the shape of a cone.

Stan looked up and saw the man's empty hand above him. No doubt: given the shape of the hand, it was meant for the cone.

“Kyle, I think I found something.”

“Yes? What is it?”

“Could you please put that in the statue's hand? It's too high, I can't reach it.”

The redhead nodded and made the object levitate with a mere flick of his fingers. It was a perfect fit, for the cone ignited as soon as it landed in the statue's hand. Suddenly, a bright flash blinded them all. When it was safe to look again, an entrance had appeared next to the statue.

“Well done. Let's go!”

They progressed through the magically lit corridor, only to arrive in a circular room. It was completely empty, safe for a pedestal at the center, on top of which was a piece of stone. Kyle smiled and took hold of his prize; a third piece of the map to the Stick of Truth. It was only then that he noticed the massive hole that had been dug out further away. Judging by the state of the wall, it wasn't the first time someone had tried to barge in. He refused to pay more attention to it and turned heels.

“We have what we came for. Let's leave this place at once.”

O.O.O.O.O

A stormy night had fallen on Kingsrock shortly after the Elves had emerged from the crypt. The sky wasn't the only thing stormy; Stan's heart was also in disarray. The words of Cartman were still ringing in his ears, questions plagued his mind. He didn't even know how to feel about the whole situation; he had given up the idea of ruling a long time ago and the prospect of being catapulted to the head of a state that mostly believed him dead probably was some sick joke pulled out by the gods. Furthermore, a deal offered by Cartman was nothing more than a gamble that could backfire.

He had to confront Kyle about that issue before they went back to Zaron, otherwise the Elf would dodge the awkward conversation and avoid him for days, pretexting to have important political matters to attend to.

Luckily, the raven found his friend on the castle's walls, looking to be deeply engrossed in his observation of the stormy sky.

“The wind of death blows very strong tonight...strange.” Kyle thought out loud.

“Is it because we spent the afternoon rummaging in a crypt?”

“Oh, you're here. Great, then we can finally leave this shithole...”

“Kyle, please wait. I have something to ask you...about Cartman.”

By the eyeroll the redhead gave him, he could say that the sole mention of that name was deeply annoying him.

“Go ahead.”

“Well...I thought about it since he mentioned it and...uh...”

He cursed himself for lacking the proper words to describe what he was feeling. Kyle seemed to grow more impatient by the second.

“Listen, I don't know if you have the authority for that but I want you to know that I decline.”

The Elf looked taken aback by the statement.

“You don't want to rule? Even with the Dominion's support?”

“No, I don't. I wore a crown once, and it cost me everything I ever had.” he admitted while dismissing his memories, “To be honest, I wouldn't pick it up if it just laid in the street.”

“How surprising. I really thought you would take this opportunity to finally reclaim what is yours. This has always been one of our goals after all...we would rather have you as king than Cartman or one of his puppets.”

“I know that it was our agreement and I know that you have only your country's best interest at heart...but that's actually the problem.”

“What do you mean?”

“I'd thought you would have taken my opinion into account. I enjoy my new life, way more than I could ever enjoy ruling. I enjoy being with you.”

Kyle hated when the raven pulled his heartstrings like that, but he couldn't deny the truth. He too greatly enjoyed the other's company; the way he so quickly became his closest friend had surprised everyone, including himself. However, changing his father's plans was almost out of the question; the decision had been taken too long ago.

“I understand and the same goes for me,” he tried to soothe him, “I'll try to change minds in Zaron but...you have to know that there is little chance of that happening.”

“I know. It's already nice to hear me out. I'll be waiting for you with the guards downstairs.”

He left before Kyle could protest further.

For the first time since forever, the Elf felt powerless. He couldn't have know that he and Stan would grow so close, yet he hated himself for letting him slip away. He never really had the occasion to care for something or someone else than the Dominion or his race, and now that it was the case, it scared him beyond words. Why on Earth did the idea of Stan getting away hurt him so much? It's not like they couldn't see each other afterwards. Somehow, still, Kyle felt his heart sink.

“Your Excellency, everything is ready for your departure.”

He turned around to see a servant bow to him.

Now was the time to throw the dice.

“Thank you. We will be off then.”

He walked past him, making his best to hide his torment. He bit his lip harshly as he passed him by, almost feeling the opportunity run away from him – or rather him running away from it. For a brief moment, a foolish idea crossed his mind, too foolish to be seriously considered.

“However...”

And yet.

He took a moment, a deep breath, trying to form proper sentences in his mind. He had made his decision.

“Tell the queen that I request a last audience.”

O.O.O.O.O

(2)

A pallid light went through the great windows of the castle’s library. Outside, the storm was raging; no rain but a sky as black as ink, tore apart by lightning. Clyde was reading an ancient volume as usual, but he knew this evening would be different as the sound of boots grew closer. He turned around to discover that the four Witch Hunters had entered the room.

“Miss Turner! I take it the mercenaries have been defeated then.”

His visitors remained silent. One could almost cut the atmosphere with a knife.

“I must say you’re here sooner than expected...”

The Witch Hunters drew their swords. Heidi spoke up:

“In the name of Her Grace Queen Marjorine, you are under arrest, My Lord.”

Clyde’s face, which had kept an amicable façade until then, suddenly broke into a cold, menacing glare.

“Are you threatening me, Witch Hunter?”

“The Gods will decide your fate.”

“The Gods have no say in my domain.”

“We will make sure you are brought to justice at the capital.”

The lord slowly rose from his chair and, in a loud crack, a purple ethereal blade ignited itself in his right hand.

“My dear, do you _really_ think you will be leaving this place alive?”

He jumped at a blinding speed, letting out an inhuman screech that filled the hunters with horror and the need to run away. He landed in the middle of his enemies still struck with an intense feeling of dread from his spell and unable to react. The next instant, he drove his sword into the nearest enemy then unleashed a powerful swing to the left, killing two hunters on the spot. Their souls, taking the appearance of a ghost-like blue smoke, came out from their wounds and was absorbed by Clyde’s sword, and its aura grew brighter, fueled by their power.

Heidi finally overcame the spell and deflected the incoming attacks with the help of her remaining hunter. The three of them exchanged furious blows for a few second, but Clyde’s speed was too much to handle; with a lightning swing of his blade, he tore through the last hunter who suffered the same fate than the others.

Her team decimated in mere seconds, Heidi was the only one left to stand against the necromancer’s full power. She stayed on the defensive, parrying the relentless assaults of her enemy while moving steadily backwards, hoping to get out of the death trap she had walked into.

“What do you know about Mitch Connor?!” She asked in a brief moment of respite.

“The Lich? He taught me many things. You must have found the grimoire, the one I brought back from your dear Eric’s library in Eastedge!”

“Ridiculous! Why would someone as pious as him keep heretic knowledge?!”

“I don’t know. Maybe you should ask Connor yourself.”

Her expression went from hostile to confused. Clyde smirked, satisfied to have struck a nerve.

“You don't know? He still lives, somewhere in the Southern Spine. He told me many things about the little girl from the graveyard…”

“LIAR!”

She lunged at him and attacked relentlessly but was kept at bay. Their blades met again and a pushing duel began between the two opponents. Her hateful eyes met the brunet’s mocking ones.

“What a shame! The famous Calamity Heidi is in fact nothing but another pawn in Cartman’s great game!”

“SHUT UP!”

“Have it your way!” 

He unleashed a telekinetic push that sent her straight at the window. She flew through it and crashed on the wind-swept balcony among the shattered pieces of glass. Clyde jumped all the way from the inside and thrust his sword downwards, aiming to impale her on the spot but the huntress rolled away. Clyde missed his attack and his sword stuck itself in the rock. Heidi kicked him away from it and without its master’s hand, the magical weapon vanished.

Stunned by this magistral kick to the face, Clyde lifted his eyes to see Heidi towering over him, the pointy end of her falchion mere inches away from his throat. He was pinned against the ledge of the balcony and would be killed if he dared to make any move.

“You are under arrest, _My Lord._ ”

“STOP!”

Bebe had just arrived at the scene, pointing a crossbow at Heidi. Her breath was frantic, party because she had run all the way to the balcony, but mostly because she was terrified of how the situation could evolve.

“Bebe...go back inside! This does not concern you!” Clyde pleaded her.

“She's threatening _my_ husband in _my_ home, this concerns me a great deal!”

“If you shoot me with that crossbow, you will only make you an accomplice of his crimes. If you value your life, I will advise you to stay back.” Heidi coldly threatened.

“No,” Clyde spat, his eyes turning a dark shade of purple, “NO...YOU WILL DIE!”

The necromancer's palms lit and hurled a stream of lightning straight at the witch hunter, echoing the roaring thunder above.

Heidi expected that kind of trick from a mage and immediately reached for the Zirrite runestone she kept at all time in her satchel and held it in front of her, sending the electricity back at its caster, but the stream of energy grew ever relentless; the bolts flew in every direction, making the tiles and the stones of the balcony snap with every spark.

The more Clyde pushed, the more Heidi pushed back; the bolts even began to turn against their own master as they burnt his flesh.

Bebe felt on her knees, completely overwhelmed by the storm of magic unravelling around her. She couldn't even see the other two clearly as the storm blurred her vision.

“DON'T LET HER KILL ME!” she heard Clyde beg.

Heidi thrusted her amulet forward and a ligtning bolt landed on the brunet's face. He let out a scream of pain as he reached for his right eye, putting an end to the lightning storm. Taking advantage of the situation, Heidi shoved Bebe away, grabbing her weapon and throwing it down the balcony.

“I'm going to end this, ONCE AND FOR ALL!” She threatened, putting her weapon against Clyde's throat.

“I won't allow it! I won't let you!” Bebe cried out.

“You would waste your life for him?! He is not the man you know! He is too dangerous to be left alive!”

“Don't kill her, please...” Clyde let out in a weak voice.

“Don't do this! I BEG YOU! I LOVE HIM!”

Heidi hesitated, but in the end there was nothing else to do. Necromancers and their like always found a way into the heart of their victims. They were insidious, manipulative, a disease that needed to be purged with fire and steel. Mercy had no place in her business.

“Then you are lost too!”

She raised her falschion, ready to decapitate the necromancer with a swift strike.

“NO!”

Bebe pulled out a knife from beneath her clothes and stabbed the huntress' arm before she could kill the brunet. She let out a surprised gasp followed by a cry of pain and lost her grip on the sword who fell down in the darkness. Bebe was pushed back while Clyde had a devious smile, his remaining eye glowing with a malevolent glow.

“POOOOWEEER!”

He blasted Heidi with lightning again, but this time the witch hunter could not defend herself. She felt unbearable pain as electricity coursed through her whole body, burning her hair and her skin through her clothes.

“UUUNLIIIMITEEEEED....POOOOWEEEEEER!”

The witch hunter was blown away and disappeared into the dark woods down below. Clyde sighed heavily in relief, wounded and exhausted.

“Your face!” Bebe exclaimed in anguish, rushing to him.

Clyde got back on his feet and took her in his arms, neverminding the pain coursing through his whole body.

“It's nothing. It will heal with time.”

She broke their embrace and took his face into her hands. His right eye and the area around it had been reduced to scorched skin. His eyebrow had burnt away as well. Bebe couldn't hold back her tears as she realized the scope of her husband's wounds.

“You can't grow back an eye, you idiot!”

“Not yet. Let's go back inside, I'll take care of what is left of them. Do not fret anymore, love.”

“How could I with what just happened?! I forbid you to go after her! She must be dead anyway!”

“Alright, alright, I'll stay here. Please just calm down.”

She managed to settle down but she was still deeply in shock. He stayed at her side, dismissing anyone who entered the room, and soothed her with loving embraces. He would send the guards after what was left of Heidi later. What mattered now was the love of his life. This close victory only fueled his desire to be stronger for her, to destroy anyone and anything who would threaten them.

He raised his gaze towards the night sky. The storm was gone.

_I hope you have settled things on your side, Douchebag..._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story will go on a brief 2 weeks hiatus, as I must prepare for my finals at home :)  
> I also wanted to give special thanks for your kind comments. They really keep me going when I suffer from the terrible sickness that is author's procrastination :p  
> Thank you for your comprehension, and I'll see you around Christmas!!


	8. Netherborn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again ! I'm back and finally done with my finals!  
> To apologize for the setback, this chapter is a bit longer than the others, I hope you will appreciate it.  
> Soundtrack:  
> 1: 12. Helheim | God of War OST  
> 2: Darkest Dungeon OST - Color of Madness "Dark Mitochondria" (2018) HQ Official  
> 3: The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt - The Vagabond Music Extended  
> 4: 2. Memories of Mother | God of War OST  
> 5: 11. Echoes of an Old Life | God of War OST  
> 6: Host Of The Phoenix King (Total War: Warhammer 2 Soundtrack)  
> 7: Dragonflame - Dynamic (Total War: Warhammer 2 Soundtrack)  
> 8: Caledor's Fury (Total War: Warhammer 2 Soundtrack)  
> 9: TES V Skyrim Soundtrack - Sovngarde  
> 10: 1. God of War | God of War OST  
> 11: Dark Souls III Soundtrack OST - Epilogue, Ending Credits (The Ringed City)

(1)

What Karen loved the most about her new life was going hunting with Bodikka. Often they didn't even know what they would hunt; wolves, boars, ogres...who knew what hid among the rocky landscapes and dark woods of the Northern coast?

Since early in the morning, the two women were following the tracks of a particularly large boar, whose flesh would no doubt delight the whole tribe if they managed to catch it. They followed the trails in the snow until they reached a wooded area, shrouded in mist and darkness.

“Something...feels odd here.” Karen thought out loud.

“Yes. I felt it too.”

The Khaleesi took a few steps forward, engrossed by the darkness of the surrounding trees. Eventually, she took out her sword and threw her a defiant look;

“Should we look into it?”

Karen couldn't hold back her excitement and nodded with enthousiasm before grabbing her bow.

“Let's go!”

They both wandered into the forest, which seemed to grow darker and darker as they continued on their path. The trees, though devoid of any leaves, still blocked most of the sun's rays because of how gnarled and twisted their branches were. The forest was silent as death, there were no birds tweeting, no tiny animals running around on the ground, even the wind seemed absent from these woods.

It looked like the forest itself was dead, and the two women were walking in its rotting corpse.

Suddenly, Karen stopped and had to catch her breath. Under Bodikka's teachings, she had begun to listen to the winds of the magic around her and she felt like something was brutally ripped off her chest.

“Master...the winds...”

“They are absent, I feel it too.”

“But...how is this possible?!”

“This would explain the state of the forest. Someone or something terribly wrong happened here at some point, and it was so abhorrent that the winds of magic scattered and left a rift here.”

“A rift?”

“It is difficult to explain...think of it as a wound that never stops to bleed. Since the winds of magic and especially the wind of life carry the essence of everything that lives...”

“This area has been completely devoid of life ever since the breach opened...”

“Perceptive, young one.”

A distant chant coming from the heart of the woods caught their attention. Karen took a step forward with the intent to follow it but Bodikka grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks. Confused, the girl turned back and looked as her guardian crouched at her level, locking eyes with her.

“Before we go, what you will see might upset you. It might revolt you, scare you, even make you sick. You have to cling to what I've taught you like never before. Understood?”

Karen nodded, intimated by what she was implying. It was the first time she seemed so serious.

Without further ado, they followed the distant rhythm through the woods. Eventually, an orange glow appeared as they moved forward, the occult chantings echoing between the dead trees. They stopped just before stepping out of the tree line, remaining in the shadows to catch a glimpse of what was taking place not far from there. A group of cloaked figures were bowing down in front of what looked like a statue of a man holding a sword high in the air, under which burnt a brasier.

Karen found the statue rather odd to begin with; its outline was strangely irregular for such a work. However, the resuming chants were enough to grab her attention completely;

“ _Hail Lord Suthek!_

_Hail the great Suthek, the artist whose talent made us whole!_

_Hail the great Suthek, the bringer of chaos!_

_Omnipotent_

_Omniscient_

_Immutable_

_The great fire that cleanses all! The exterminator of false gods!_

_HAIL LORD SUTHEK!”_

The figures proceeded to cut themselves while continuing their prayers in some sort of demented ritual. Karen turned towards Bodikka to get an idea of what they should do.

“We must stop this ritual _at once._ ”

“Why?”

“Questions later, girl. Take them out.” (2)

Karen took hold of her bow and aimed at the nearest cultist, still unaware that they were being spied on. She steadied her arm and fired, confident that it should take out her target swiftly.

She didn't expect the figure to turn around with the arrow stuck in his back.

“We have unwanted guests.”

“Stay behind me!” Bodikka yelled before rushing forward sword in hand.

The nearest cultist, neverminding the arrow stuck in the middle of his body, did the unthinkable; he extended his arm to an impossible level to strike down the charging woman. However, as if she had expected this type of sorcery, she dodged with a side jump and cut off the limb with a clean cut.

The figure let out a monstruous howl, making it obvious that whatever was wrapped into those robes wasn't human. Boddika decapitated it before it could react, spilling dark, almost black blood on the snow.

The other cultists attacked the Khaleesi from all directions in the hope of overwhelming her, but while she was busy cutting down the enemies in front of her, Karen was watching her back, striking down backstabbing enemies with a volley of arrows. However, given the number of arrows she needed to take out these incredibly resilient enemies, she decided to join the melee herself.

Sword in hand, she ran and jumped to the chest of the nearest cultist, impaling him on her sword and killing him on the spot. Another enemy approached her and she readied herself.

She could not be prepared to what she was about to witness.

With a sickening snap, the hooded figure squirmed under its robes. Suddenly, they tore open and Karen managed to roll away just in time to avoid a spear made of bones.

_Did he...did he just attack with his own SPINE?!”_

Casting her questions aside, the girl sprinted and stabbed her opponent in the torso with her sword. Horrified, she noticed that not only her attack had not caused any damage, but that bones and muscles were _wrapping themselves_ around her hand.

“LORD...ACCEPT THIS GIFT OF FLESH!” shrieked the priest, his voice a distorted echo that burned through the girl's mind like a nightmare.

Panicking, Karen felt a rush of raw magic course through her veins and the next second, her arm burst into flames, incinerating her enemy in a violent explosion. The young girl cried out in pain and fell on her knees as she had seared her own arm in the process.

“GIRL!” (3)

The burst of magic had burnt many other cultists to a crisp, soon, a putrid scent of burnt flesh spread over the area. Having taken care of the last enemies, Bodikka rushed to Karen, pressing as much snow as she could on her warden's scorched skin.

“I don't understand...my own flames hurt me...” she whispered in disbelief.

“Magic behaves unpredictably in rifts, and sometimes it can even hurt to use our own powers,” the woman said somber, “I'm sorry, I should have told you about that.”

“I panicked...those people...they were monsters!”

“Cultists. Encoutering them so close to the camp is...worrysome.”

She threw a glance at a corpse laying near them. Looking under the robes could turn even the strongest stomach; the corpse was nothing but an incoherent jumble of organ, sinew and bone...

“Cultists?”

“People who worship malign deities, such as the one you see there.”

She pointed at the statue, and Karen had to repress a gag when she noticed the reason why the object was so irregular: It had been constructed by stitching human limbs together. The statue was holding the same ritual knife the worshippers used to cut themselves and its head was hidden under a golden mask, with three pointy ends aimed at the sky and thin, threatening eyes looking down towards the brasier burning at its feet.

“Some of them become ascended, and receive “gifts” from their master, like the ones we just fought.”

“This is so horrible...I didn't know the gods could...”

“Gods are cruel.”

She cut down the ropes holding the statue together and it broke down into dozens of bloody pieces. Methodically, Bodikka set fire to every one of them.

“Hopefully taking care of this cult will mend the rift in these woods. Can you walk?”

“Yes, I think I can.”

Before moving any further, Bodikka took a piece of cloth from her backpack and used it to bind the young one's arm. Seeing its dark blue color reminded Karen of Alex, and remembering him brought her some comfort.

“Let's go, girl.”

O.O.O.O.O

(4)

_Douchebag._

_DOUCHEBAG!_

Alex nearly jumped out of his skin when he was awoken by a booming voice inside his head.

_Did I wake you up?_

_Clyde...don't you ever do that again._

_I'm sorry but this is urgent. Where is Kenny?_

_I don't know, probably in the castle._

_Is he preparing the troops? Do you know how far is the Elven army?_

_Excuse me but what are you talking about?_

_Douchebag for fuck's sake! Marjorine's friends in the Dominion have sent an army to conquer the North entirely!_

_This...I...I'm going to find Kenny. I'll reach you later.”_

Not caring if the brunet had something to add, Alex shut down their mental bond and rushed outside the cavern he had taken shelter in for the night. In the corner, Two opened an eye slowly but quickly got back to his slumber.

Alex reached the edge of the cliff and immediately noticed the mass of people moving around the outskirts of the town, easily spottable partly because the city had no walls at all (legend has it that the first Jarl of Highcastle, after being threatened by an Elven ambassador that his city would be crushed easily without any defenses, scoffed and showed his soldiers gathered behind him: “ _these_ are the walls of Highcastle!”).

It looked like Kenny had already taken measures to deal with the issue.

Alex felt anxious to confront Kenny after their argument but he couldn't stand idle while his home and his loved ones were in danger. He was about to teleport but a yap caught his attention. Turning around, he found Two closing the distance between them.

“I'll be back soon. I promise.” he said softly while stroking the dragon's muzzle.

Two emitted what sounded like a groan of resignation and got back inside the cavern.

O.O.O.O.O

All the clans had been gathered to defend home and country against the invader, just like in the days of yore. Fifteen thousand Northerners stood ready to follow their leader to battle. They would all die before allowing any Elf into Highcastle.

While the troops were gathering, Kenny had sent scouts on the fastest steeds available to discover the whereabouts of the invading host. Fortunately for them, the North's landscape made it difficult for large groups of people to move in a cohesive manner, earning them much needed time to prepare their own forces.

The heir was contemplating the movement of his troops from the castle's walls. He felt a gust of icy wind ruffle his hair and turned around to see Alex materialize a few feet away. It had been a few days since they had talked and Kenny felt a sudden lump in his throat. He was relieved to see him but would this exchange go like the last one?

“I...”

“Don't say anything.”

Kenny did so and in the blink of a second, Alex had thrown himself into his arms, holding him tight like his life dependend on it.

“I'm sorry.” he whispered.

“I'm sorry too.” the blond answered softly.

At last, among all the bleakness that he had endured, Kenny felt a bit of relief. For how long, he didn't know and he didn't care.

“I acted carelessly and I didn't grasp how deep was your grief...I shouldn't have...”

“It's alright. I've made mistakes too and I've let my anger get the better out of me. We're both guilty of what happened.”

Alex couldn't hold a scoff.

“You've thought a lot about this, right?”

“Haven't you?”

“...I would lie if I said I didn't. Well, until Clyde reached me to warn you about an Elven army at our doorstep.”

“Yes, that, well...”

Kenny went on to explain what happened since their argument. Alex couldn't help but feel ashamed by the way he ran away, leaving his lover alone to deal with everything the world was throwing at him. Yet, the blond had just proved that he didn't hold any grudge against him, quite the contrary.

Down beneath, the troops had ceased to move, probably waiting for the arrival of their commander.

“I think it's time for me to –”

He was cut off by a screech coming from the sky. He raised his gaze to see Two land on the wall just behind Alex, who didn't flinch.

“It's true that it seems to follow you like a puppy...” Kenny pointed out with raised eyebrows, “I guess there's no trouble if it answers to you, but it stays outside of the city.”

“Agreed.”

“Good. Now I'll go.”

“ _You?_ I'm coming with you.”

Kenny let out a sigh. This wouldn't be easy.

“Honey I...I can't. After what happened to Karen, I can't put you into harm's reach again. You are everything I have...I can't take this risk.”

Alex shut him up by pressing his lips against his. Kenny's growing beard tickled the brunet's chin.

“I'm not the one who needs protection, no offense. Besides, I have a big flying fire-breathing lizard with me now, what could possibly go wrong?”

Kenny was about to reply “everything” but he decided against it. There was no point in another argument. His worries would have to be kept in check for the time being. He threw a glance at the dragon behind them, already as big as a carriage, which was eyeing them with curiosity.

“You'll have to find it a name. “Two” is rather sad for a living creature.”

“My, aren't you getting fond of him already?” the other teased him.

“It has your trust, so I guess it has mine. To a certain degree.”

Alex chuckled and followed Kenny.

Whatever the odds, they would face them together.

From their balcony, Stuart and Carol watched as the army left the town, like a swarm of organized ants going through the white fields. Above, flying in circles, the dragon was following his master's path.

“You did well to step down. He will be perfect for the honor.” Carol said, tearing up despite her smile.

Stuart held her tightly against him.

“We thought we would never make something out of him. Now look at us! What a fine young lad we've raised!”

They couldn't tell if they were crying or laughing. Probably both. They looked up one last time before the army faded into the distance.

Riding at the head of the army, Kenny and Alex led the way proudly, one wielding his armor made of dragon bones, the other's deep blue cloak swirling in the wind behind him. On both their heads, they wore circlets of gold and silver respectively, mark of their status of Lords of the North.

“ _Yes...we are living in dark times, but it is in hardship that the greatest victories are found. It is high time for the North to unite once more under a single ruler, a single will, a single voice, like it did in the days of yore._

_He is perfect for the task ahead of him._

_He will be a great High King.”_

O.O.O.O.O

(5)

“Siv, take a look at her, I need to speak to the tribe.”

“As you say, Khaleesi.”

Bodikka got out of her tent, leaving the wise woman and Karen together near the fire. After hours of feeling like she had thrown herself headfirst into a pyre, the young girl was exhausted. The elder laid her down on pelts and inspected the damage, before whispering an incantation. Her fingers gently brushed the surface of Karen's scorched skin and it started to grow back. The girl grimaced at the pain but she held it together for the few minutes the operation took. Finally, the wise woman spread some sort of balm on the wounds and wrapped them in a bandage.

“There you are little one. Now you must rest and wait for the Khaleesi's return.”

“Wait, Siv! I need to know!”

“About what, dear?”

“About the cultists...the Khaleesi never looked so serious before...and she was vague when she told me about them.”

Siv lowered her eyes and sighed. She made sure to close the drapes at the entrance and then waved at Karen to join her. They silently walked towards the other side of the tent, which served as a vault for the whole tribe. There, all the loot and gifts the tribe had ever collected until then was stashed; there was gold of course, jewels, richely decorated armors and weapons but also more curious objects like paintings and tapestries, which wasn't usually found in the loot of a nomadic tribe.

Then, Siv took hold of a sheath holding a curved knife. Once she took it out, Karen gasped as she immediately recognized the serrated blade lined with gold.

“Here, away from all civilization, is where the dark gods are worshipped the most. Far in the East, past the brimstone mountains, lie the ruins of an ancient kingdom that is now home to ghosts, evil spirits and worshippers of deities that should be best forgotten. Suthek is one such god. “The great artist” they call him, because his favorite activity was to merge different species together, though Humans were his favorite playthings. Beasts and men, fish and men, nothing could stop his abhorrent experiments, not even the other gods.”

“But you talk like he has ceased to exist?”

“Legend has it that the other gods exiled him to the deepest levels of Helheim. There is no escape from such a punishment...but his believers remain on this Earth to taint it, and some believe _he_ can reach them and bless them. Those were the horrible creatures you have encountered.”

The terrible deformities of her enemies flashed in her mind. It appeared that they had survived much worse than she thought. Siv tapped her shoulder gently, with the intent to let her reflect on what she had just learned.

“I will go see the Khaleesi now. You should rest as much as you could in the meantime.”

“Of course. Thank you, Siv.”

The elder gave her a smile and left.

She indeed had much to think about.

As she wandered among the glittering objects, she tried to remember any mention of such cults back home. There were news of the Witch Hunters rooting out some heretic beliefs of course, but nothing of the sort. Or maybe there were? She couldn't tell.

It also looked like Bodikka often brought back items from Telos, probably when she disguised herself as a member of the nobility. She took a particular interest in books, paintings and fine clothes; there were whole stacks of it laying around. It was so spread out that one could miss the piece of furniture at the far back, almost concealed by the piles of loot.

Karen brushed its outline with her palm. It was an old crib made of wood, a stark contrast to all the other precious and glittering objects laying around. Inside, deep blue sheets that had heavily suffered from time and dust.

And she realized.

Bodikka had entered the tent, her eyes filling with horror at the sight of Karen so close to a place she had no access to.

“What are you –”

She didn't finish her sentence. She had arrived too late, the girl was already leaning over the crib. Moments passed, without either of them saying a word.

“I can't believe it...I've spent months here and after all this time, I finally realize that you and Alex's missing mother are one and the same...”

“Does it change anything to you?” the Khaleesi said, now towering over her.

“Of course it does!” she clenched her fists.

“How so? Will you tell my son once I bring you back to your lands? He doesn't need to chase after ghosts, I'm pretty sure he has enough to do already.”

Her words enraged the young one like nothing before.

“But don't you want to see him?!”

“His father took him away for a reason. This life...my life, wasn't for him. And it must remain that way. The gods have seen to it.”

Confused, Karen cooled down and watched her silently as she took a seat, emptying a mug of mead in the process.

“What do you mean?” the young one asked, sitting next to her.

She remained silent for a long moment. So long in fact, that Karen believed that she would have to leave the tent with no answer at all.

“In my teenage years, I've raided a monastery dedicated to Talyna,” she told as she starred blankly into the fire, “we plundered it and burned it to the ground...and the Spiteful Lady was displeased...she cursed us.”

“ _You who has defiled this place, head my words; for as long as your wretched existence continues, you shall bear many children, but you will never be a mother to them. They shall be taken away from you or wither and die in your arms. Until the end of your days, this pain will never leave you.”_

“So she took the only child I ever had...well, not really...”

She got up and went to fetch a heavy chest. She opened it, revealing a dark scaly egg resting inside it. A dragon egg.

“Those were also my children...but a dark mage came a few years ago, and stole the two who had just hatched. Even if they weren't human, I couldn't keep them...”

_Could it be...Kevin's dragons?_

“I'm sorry for your loss.”

“Won't change anything. I brought this on myself. So the least I can do is to teach you to not repeat the error of my ways.”

They remained silent for a moment. Bodikka broke it once more:

“You did well back there, girl. I see improvement with every encounter.”

“Thank you, master. And thank you for trusting me.”

O.O.O.O.O

(6)

The white clothing used in the High Elf host provided them with a simple camouflage amidst the snowy landscapes, but the same could not be said about their dark blue garments.

On top of his chariot, Chris Donnely, former ambassador to Mediflumina, was leading his army through the mountain pass, bearing the standart of Belenoc; three mountain peaks surrounded by clouds and leading to a full moon on a field of dark blue, and at its center was displayed the Eldeyn rune _Estroi_ , meaning bastion, defence.

Since the mountainous kingdom could not count on a cavalry force like its southern neighbours, they put an emphasis on something that could be far more lethal if properly commanded; scythed chariots, and Chris had at least twenty of those.

As the fifteen thousand strong army arrived in the plain, the blizzard grew extremely violent. One could not see past a few meters and the march was slowed down considerably. So much in fact that the whole army would be snowed up if nothing was done.

“This blizzard is not natural...”

“No my Lord, it would seem so.”

“Fetch me the Shadowmancer.”

After a few moments, another High Elf wearing a long grey coat joined Chris. His face was completely hidden by a silver mask, safe for a triangular opening allowing him to see and breathe freely.

“An impressive display of cryomancy to be sure, but nothing I cannot take care of. _ELUI!_ ”

A flash of light surrounded the wizard, and the blizzard died out almost immediately. Hundreds of black bolts arcing through the bright blue sky were revealed, ready to crash into the Elven formation.

“TAKE COVER!” (7)

The unfortunate ones who weren't quick enough were reduced to pincushions in mere seconds, spreading mayhem among the troops. On the other side of the field, the Northerners were readying another volley. Always perched on his chariot, Chris rode to the front, holding the standart of Belenoc high in the air.

“READY THE LINES! IT IS TIME THESE BARBARIANS SUBMIT TO OUR RULE!”

Another shower of arrows arced in the sky. The Shadwomancer stepped in, waving his arms in the air, his fingertips imbued with a strange black smoke.

“ _Arhain Ismuir!”_

What could only be described as a cloud of pure darkness formed at incredible speed around the whole area, making the Elven host invisible. The arrows were swallowed by the shadow without making any sound. The area was pitch black, it was as if this part of the mortal plan had ceased to exist, leaving only a gaping void.

“Looks like they have a shadowmancer with them...” Alex realized from behind the lines.

“They can't hide from arrows!” Kenny retorted, ready to order another volley. However, Alex caught his arm before he could give the order.

“It's no use! Everything you throw at them will end up swallowed by the miasma. I'll go and dispel it myself.”

Kenny was about to protest but Alex was already riding down the plain. The blond cursed and spurred his own horse.

“MEN, FOLLOW ME! MAKE READY TO ATTACK!”

The Northern army began its race towards the enemy line. Meanwhile, Alex had almost reached the hills. To his surprise, the dark miasma disappeared before he could do anything. Worse: the Elves had taken position on and around the hills, fortifying their position.

“No interest in taking prisonners. Kill them all.”

A warhorn echoed Chris' orders and the bolt throwers stationned on the will opened fire on the incoming Northerners. Packed tight, each quarrel tore through the humans, impaling two or three of them in a single shot. The Elven archers followed by unleashing two volley of arrows on the enemy, though thanks to their reliable shieldwall formation, the Northerners suffered much less casualties. However, there was still a long way to go to reach the enemy line.

“General, a lone human is heading right for us!”

“Alone? What are you saying?!”

Chris squinted and had to admit that his messenger was right.

“IT'S THE MAGE! KILL HIM! KILL HIM NOW!”

Two bolt throwers and a group of archers opened fire on the rider. Alex swiftly reacted by creating a square of ice in front of his horse and it caught all the incoming projectiles mid-flight.

“I shall deal with him, General,” declared the shadowmancer, “without his support, his army is doomed.”

He disappeared into a cloud of smoke, only to reform at the bottom of the hill. Noticing that the challenger had appeared, Alex jumped down his horse.

“You do not try to avoid me?” the Eldeyn spoke up, “If you concern yourself with me, your army will lose.”

“I have already someone on the task.”

A mighty roar echoed throughout the plains. They both raised their heads to see Two dive from the sky and unleash a torrent of flames that incinerated the artillery and their crews in mere moments, leaving a trail of destruction and calcinated remains on the snow.

“They have a dragon?!” Chris exclaimed, “I want every archer to fire on it! I WANT IT DEAD!”

He then ordered the driver of his chariot to move forward.

“I swear to the gods, if you want something done...”

From his spot, Alex smirked triumphantly at the shadowmancer.

“Unpredictable...Prince Kyle was right to warn us about you. I shall gain untold prestige once I'll bring your head to him.”

The brunet scoffed in return and formed an ice dagger in his right palm.

“Bold claims for someone lurking in the dark.”

While the two mages were exchanging words, the Northerners were about to reach the Elven line despite their loses. Kenny was leading the cavalry wing composed of his huskarls on the left, ready to charge the Elven light cavalry and pin them in place. Too busy trying to shot down the dragon above their heads, the Elven archers couldn't provide support to their allies further down the hill. The phalanx raised their tower shields and advanced with spears aimed at the enemy. In front of them, a wave of fully-plated men armed to the teeth with axes, warhammers and weapons heavy enough to cut through them like butter.

“SEND THEM SCREAMING TO HELHEIM!”

The two lines clashed, the first ranks bashing their shields against each other's. In a maddening racket of steel, crushed bones and cries, the Northerners pushed back the Elven phalanx, splitting shields and skulls alike. Soon the line broke into several smaller brawls all over the plain.

Kenny had charged first into the fray on top his barded horse. In only a few minute's time, he and his huskarls had driven the enemy light cavalry out of the field. It almost seemed too easy.

“CHARIOTS! CHARIOTS INCOMING!”

The blond turned his head and saw about twenty war chariots roll down the hills, on the right flank of his army. He commanded his standart bearer to rally the huskarls and spurred his horses.

“ON ME!”

The scythed chariots had already reached the back lines and were on a bloody rampage, their scythes mowing down everything and everyone in their path. Some Northerners fled in terror at the sound of the spinning blades tearing through flesh, bones and metal. Others gathered all their courage and threw their spears at the enemy in hopes to stop the deadly machines.

Chris was about to order a turn towards the rear of the engaged enemy troops but he reconsidered at the sight of Kenny surging from the other side of the battlefield. The ruler of the North ordered his huskarls to form a triangle behind him, to throw down their lances and take the loaded crossbow attached to the back of their harness.

Trained since birth to fight alongside their lord, Kenny's huskarls had no trouble to shoot down either the horses or the charioteers behind them; causing widespread chaos as the constructs tumbled and shattered on the ice, sending their riders flying or crushing them on the spot.

Chris himself was thrown out and crashed on the snow a few feet away from Kenny. Determined to end this quickly, he gripped his longsword and charged the Elf.

The latter got back up and took a Dark Elf handbow that he kept for dire situations such as this one. In a quick shot, he hit bull's eye – or rather horse's eye, and Kenny was thrown out of his mount. He needed a moment to recover given the weight of his armor, moment that his opponent seemed willing to give him.

“No fancy talks of surrender? Damn, you have improved...” Kenny threw at him.

“I do not negotiate with vermin. I exterminate them.”

He reached for his sides and drew two short swords, making them twirl in his hands before taking his combat stance, one blade held horizontally in front, the other high behind his neck.

“I'll remember your words when I'll plunder your country, _álfr_. ”

O.O.O.O.O

Alex threw his dagger at the enemy while ice shards formed around him, ready to be thrown. The shadowmancer dodged and counter-attacked with projectiles that looked like black fireballs. Stalactites and fireballs collided mid-air in fiery explosions, blinding them both. However, Alex was the fastest to react and stomped the ground with his feet, unleashing a wave of ice that cristallized into razor sharp stalagmites reaching ever further.

The smoke faded but the shadowmancer was nowhere to be seen. The brunet heard a noise that sounded like bubbles and quickly jumped to avoid the backstab. The Elf had melted into the ground and was slowly rising from a pool of dark liquid.

“How did you do that?”

“Simple. I used your weakness.”

He pointed at Alex's feet, and the cryomancer understood: he teleported by taking advantage of his own shadow behind him. Refusing to give him enough time to think of another trick, Alex jumped to him, ice blade in hand. The shadowmancer summoned his own blade in his right hand; a rather normal looking steel blade, except for the grey glow around it.

Their blades met and they exchanged blows for a moment, before the shadowmancer dodged on the side and unleashed a ascending blow, that Alex avoided with a quick step to right. Or so he thought.

The mage gasped as he felt a surge of pain on his right cheek. He jumped backwards and reached for it; blood. The Elf had touched him, even though he had obviously dodged his attack.

The latter held out his blade in front of him, its shadow almost reaching Alex's body.

“It looks like you didn't learn the first time.”

“And you should talk less.”

With a wave, he raised a howling gale that sound turned into a blizzard, bloating out the sun entirely. No light, no shadows. The Elf scoffed at the attempt and went back to the offensive, attempting to strike down his opponent with quick slashing attacks. The brunet was extremely elusive, empowered by the storm raging around them, and this seemed to finally get on his enemy's nerves.

“ _ISSTH LITHRI!”_

If such a thing were possible, a flash of darkness erupted from the caster's palm, sending Alex fly a few feet away.

_Fuck he blinded me!_

His eyes were wide open but it was as if he had been blindfolded; everything was pitch black.

“Now you will sink into the abyss!” he heard as the voice grew dangerously close.

_Well, that's a fucking dumb way to die..._

A mighty roar raised a gust of wind in his direction, soon followed by a high pitched cry of terror. The spell blinding him was lifted, and the first thing he saw was the white snow being tainted by splashes of crimson blood coming from above him.

He didn't need to raise his head, for the bloody remains of the shadowmancer, that is his legs and about half his torso, fell down a few feet away from him. A jarring noise of metal and bones being grinded to dust sent shivers down Alex's spine, and despite the fact that everything was blurry, he knew that his dragon was enjoying an impromptu meal.

“Getting saved is really growing into a bad habit...”

O.O.O.O.O

(8)

Kenny and Chris exchanged blows for a long time as the battle raged around them, neither side wanting to yield in front of their most hated enemy.

Despite his skill with a longsword, Kenny was getting tired. Chris was extremely fast and aggressive, relentlessly probing his defences to take advantage of the smallest opening. Until then, the blond was holding fast and it was enraging the High Elf beyond words.

“What's wrong? Is the weather not to your liking?”

“Silence, scum!”

“Then how about you fucking leave?!”

He put all his strength into his next attack and it was enough to push Chris back, making him lose one of his swords at the same time. He quickly recovered with a flip and counter-attacked with his remaining sword in a flurry of blows. Their blades clashed one last time and they engaged a pushing duel, their blond locks almost touching.

“I will leave when your cities burn and your people lie in chains!” the High Elf spat.

“We will die before that!”

“It suits me just fine...nothing else but pest control!”

Kenny let out a cry of rage and pushed him back again, sending him fall on his back a few feet away. The blond tightened his grip on his longsword and charged. Overwhelmed by panick, Chris raised his arm and reached for his second sword lying further away. Moved by telekinesis, the weapon took off like an arrow in Kenny's direction.

It was coming too fast for the blond to react. He repressed a cry of pain as the blade found the opening in his armor, tearing through his right hip.

“W-what –”

His eyes went from the sword stuck in his side to Chris who had gotten back up and was coming right for him, sword in hand. Helpless and unable to move, Kenny lifted his sword to protect himself, to no avail.

Two blows were enough for the High Elf to deflect his sword and to stab him in the neck, smiling madly through his teeth.

Blood began to pour from the wound and Kenny fell to his knees. His vision and his consciousness fading, he let out a long, last gasp.

“The beast dies in its own filth!” Chris laughed as he dug out his swords.

The last remnants of Kenny's strength had left him and his body bathed in a pool of his own blood.

The short-lived King in the North was no more.

O.O.O.O.O

(9)

“No...not...not Valhalla...not now...”

Kenny's words were barely audible, and even if the winged women carrying his body had heard him, they didn't pay attention to his ramblings. They were drifting on rays of light, sometimes blue, sometimes green, red, purple, like they were gliding on auroras...above them, the infinity of the stars.

After what felt like an eternity and yet in the blink of an eye, Kenny was standing in front of a set of colossal gates made of beautifully sculpted stone. They slowly opened, revealing a figure shrouded in grey robes. When he got closer, Kenny recognized the traits of a very old man, almost completely bald safe for his bushy eyebrows and his long beard reaching his waist. He was holding a wooden staff, on which was resting a crow as black as a night without stars.

It was only at this moment that Kenny noticed the warm, golden glow hidden behind the doors, its rays shining upon his palid skin.

“Kenneth McCormick,” the old man called, “you have died in the glory of battle. Among your people there is nothing more honorable and glorious. Lord Hel has decided that you are worthy of resting in Valhalla – ”

“I cannot rest now!”

The old man stopped but did not seemed offended to be cut off. Quite the contrary, he looked quite intrigued, even amused. So amused in fact, that he couldn't hold a chuckle.

“I am afraid death is quite permanent, you may question its causes and time for eternity though, if you so wish...”

“You don't understand...I...I cannot leave my people...”

“Such curious beings, those mortals.” the elder muttered, “once you step into Valhalla, all these doubts will be erased from your mind. Embrace its comfort, you needn't be afraid.”

There was no point in questionning death, was there? His time had come. Too soon, maybe, but it was his opinion, not his destiny.

“Karen...please tell me my sister is waiting for me.”

The old man turned to his raven, who seemed as clueless as he was.

“Karen McCormick has never entered this realm...nor the underworld. You must be mistaken.”

“What? You mean Karen is alive?!”

Even if Kenny couldn't feel anything anymore, he would be overjoyed if he could. His dead heart would also sink to realize that it would be another unresolved issue in his past life...where was she and how was she doing? Was she in danger? So many questions that led him to do the unthinkable.

“I beg you,” he knelt, “ask Lord Hel to see me. I need...I _need_ to go back.”

“You have been speaking with him since your arrival.”

Surprised, Kenny raised his heads to see the old man stand upright, his eyes filled with an overworldly glow. His voice had grew deeper and was now echoing through the void around them.

“You have shown great boldness, Kenneth McCormick,” Hel's voice boomed throught the whole realm, “What you are asking is to go against the laws of nature itself!”

_I fucked it up even here! He's going to send me to Helheim now! WHAT WAS I THINKING?!_

“Yet I see that it is only love that motivates you, and I sense that your intentions are pure. I would be willing to bring you back to the mortal plane...but there are conditions.”

“What are they?”

“You will be reborn as my champion, my avatar...the Netherborn. I will grant you great powers that you will need on your quests...but know that the extent of my gift is not unlimited. Use it too much and you will perish for good, use it to do evil and I will strike you down myself.”

“I accept!” (10)

A smile curved Hel's wrinked lips.

"Stay loyal to me and make sure that I am properly worshipped by your people, this is all I ask in return for now."

"I will do as you ask."  

“Very well, mortal. The pact is now scealed.”

O.O.O.O.O

The shock of Kenny's death had reached his huskarls who had been fighting in the vicinity.

“By the gods! He's killed Lord Kenneth!”

“YOU BASTARD!”

The two sworn warriors threw themselves at Chris, only to be quickly disposed of by the High Elf's attacks.

“All too easy.”

But the skies begged to disagree. A ray of light pierced the clouds and shone on Kenny's body. After a few seconds, a cloud of green mist swallowed the corpse, and a ghostly howl echoed through the plains. Once the smoke faded, a wraith was levitating in its stead, wielding a lantern in his left hand and an axe in the other, its head shrouded in a dark hood.

The wraith howled again, this time directly at Chris. The sound froze the High Elf's blood in his veins as he greeted his teeth, eyes wide open with terror and confusion.

“What...what is this?!”

The wraith lifted its axe and charged, leaving a trail of ethereal flames it its path. Chris' silver lined swords allowed him to withstand the unrelenting attacks but he couldn't do much against the vengeful spirit.

In a cry of frustration, the Eldeyn managed to land a powerful blow on the ghost's, pushing him back and causing its hood to fall. What Chris saw took his breath away, as a silent gasp left his mouth.

The wraith was the spirit of the man he had just slain mere moments ago. He had the same traits, safe for the grey hair and skin, not to mention the glowing green eyes.

“I killed you! WHY WON'T YOU STAY DEAD YOU BEAST?!”

He was answered by another flurry of axe blows. Overcome by panic and fatigue, Chris was disarmed by an even more powerful strike and was thrown to the ground. He lifted his head to see the gheist creeping near his body.

“GET AWAY FROM ME!”

He turned around and tried to crawl away but the ethereal grip on his neck was quick to ruin any hopes of flight.

He let out an ear-splitting cry as the ghost's arm broke through his ribcage and came out of his breast, splattering blood everywhere. The spirit let him fall on his knees and summoned his axe once more. The last thing the Elf saw was the glow of its unnatural eyes.

The wraith swung his axe in a lightning-fast motion. Chris's head rolled on the snow as his lifeless but still twitching body collapsed on the icy floor. The lantern's flame grew larger and brighter, and soon the wraith's entire body was consummed by the ethereal flames.

When the green fire went out, Kenny stood in its stead, alive. The spirit's axe was still resting in his hand.

As serene as he never had been before and under the astounded gaze of his soldiers, the blond fetched Chris' head and held it high for everyone to see. The Elves quickly realized that there was no hope of winning. The one who didn't flee fought to the death and were slaughtered to the last.

The battle for the North was over.

O.O.O.O.O

(11)

As night fell, the main source of light came from the huge pyres raised to burn the dead. Suffering an epidemic after such a victory was out of the question.

Two did his part, his fire burning everything faster than any other one.

As the Northerners rejoiced, Kenny and Alex reunited. The first thing the brunet noticed was that his lover looked somewhat...older. Kenny explained everything to him, and at first the mage believed he was kidding him. A contract with the god of death?

“So you're telling me that you _cannot_ be killed by others but everytime you are reborn you age up a few years? This is...this is completely mad.”

“I know but...you're not happy that I –”

“Of course I'm delighted that you're alive, idiot! I just don't like the fact that you are basically the human vessel of a _god_!”

Kenny raised an eyebrow.

“Why the mistrust?”

“I don't like gods. They do what they please without thinking of the consequences it might have...”

“So they are like you.”

Alex opened his mouth to retort but the only thing that came out was a frustrated sigh.

“...touché.”

“We should talk about this later, you know, when we're not surrounded by a sea of corpse and me just discovering my second life?”

“Sounds good to me.”

The dragon landed near them and requested attention from his master, who was happy to oblige.

“You know, he saved my butt.” the brunet said with a smile.

“Oh really? I'm eager to hear that!” the blond smirked in return.

“And I thought about what you said and I think I came up with a name.”

Kenny nodded, awaiting for the reveal.

“He has the fire my mother had, yet underneath there's a big heart! How do you like your name, Rosarion?”

The dragon purred in approval, looking satisfied.

“Then Rosarion it is.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and for staying with us! It matters a lot to see your positive feedbacks and kudos day after day. I apologize in advance for any uploading irregularities, for I'll begin an internship soon and maybe won't have time to upload a chapter every week. Whatever happens, thank you for sticking with us!


	9. Queen of Thorns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack:  
> 1: The Witcher 3: Blood and Wine OST - Blood Run  
> 2: 9. Rat Ogre - Jesper Kyd (Warhammer: End Times - Vermintide OST)  
> 3: Warhammer Soundtrack - Men of the Empire Make Ready  
> 4: The Witcher 3: Blood and Wine OST - Seeking Resonance  
> 5: The Witcher 3 | 1 HOUR of TOUSSAINT AMBIENT MUSIC |  
> 6: Game of Thrones - The Long Farewell - Ramin Djawadi (Season 7 Soundtrack) [official]  
> 7: The Witcher 3: Blood and Wine OST - For Honor! for Toussaint!  
> 8: The Witcher 3: Blood and Wine OST - The Banks of the Sansretour

(1)

It was common knoweldge that the hangovers one could get in Lys were near-legendary. Being the ruler of this land, Christophe knew very well that he would be in for a couple of rough awakenings.

But maybe not _that_ rough.

"MON SEIGNEUR! IT'S TERRIBLE!"

"Oh be quiet you dunce!"

Christophe grumbled and emerged from within his bed. His foot kicked an empty goblet laying around as he got up, not caring in the slightest that he had no clothes on.

"What now?"

"A corpse has been found in the well down the castle!"

The king pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to calm the raging headache that was amplified by his servant's most annoying babbling.

"I'm not in the mood for jests this early in the morning..."

"I'm afraid it is no jest, mon Roy, it is quite serious. There are only a few Wood Elves in the realm, certainly the embassy will react at the news!"

"A _what?_ "

"A Wood Elf, mon seigneur."

Christophe's blood froze. The cold panic that was rising from the bottom of his belly almost put his hangover to shame as he rushed to his wardrobes and grabbed the first set of tunics laying inside.

"Get me to the scene immediately!"

"At once, please follow me."

They made their way down the stairs and corridors and went through the castle's courtyard until they reached the moat, filled naturally by the Sanelle river. There, they found a group of guards surrounding the crime scene. They bowed to their king but Christophe's mind couldn't be further away from protocol. His worst fears had just become reality.

Llomen laid dead before him, his body pierced by a dozen of arrows. Given the blue taint of his skin, someone must have dumped him in the water in hopes of getting rid of the body easily. The arrows were exquisite, of Elven design without a doubt.

However, it was too soon to make assumptions. The important thing was to make sure that Ruby had got out of the city safely.

"Pay him the respects he deserves and make sure he has a fitting funeral. I must find Gregory quickly."

He turned heels and went almost running back to the castle, closely followed by his guards as he rushed towards Gregory's quarters. He didn't even knock and just barged in.

The whole room had been completely wrecked; the furniture had been thrown on the floor, sometimes broken, with marks of fighting on the walls. The windows had been shattered and there was no sign of Gregory.

"By the Lady! We have been compromised!"

O.O.O.O.O

Ruby was shoved on the back of a horse and forced to travel for a long time, her face covered by a cloth and her hands tied.

Her kidnappers rode throughout most of the following day. They were prepared; new horses were waiting for them at different rally points, allowing them to ride almost indefinitely. Did they intend to sneak her out of the country? If this was all according to plan, she would have to write to Christophe about the _realism_ of her fake abduction.

After another day, the mad stampede of the horses finally came to an end. Ruby felt that she was lifted of her seat and at last, a hand took away the cloth covering her head. She immediately closed her eyes at the violent burst of light coming from the morning sun. Someone pushed her from behind and she was forced to advance. After a few moments, she could open her eyes without risks of being blinded; she was surrounded by a group of knights bearing no colours. They were leading her to a great estate surrounded by vineyards and olive trees. Although the estate had no defensive walls, it was bordered by a series of towers kept by sentries. Past the stables was the main villa, painted in bright orange and adorned with many frescoes and large windows. Along with its roof made of terracotta tiles, the mansion was a perfect and lavish example of a southern Lysian estate.

They entered the villa and the guards lead her up the stairs. They ended in an impressive dining room on the first floor; centered on a long table of lacked wood. The rays of the sun were allowed inside by three large windows on the right side of the room, whereas the left side was occupied by lavish dressers lined with gold and a door leading to the kitchens. At the corner of the room and behind the table, a small salon composed of a coffee table and three armchairs, for more modest gatherings.

The guards made Ruby sit in one of the armchairs and left her without saying a word despite her pleas for information. Her hands were still bound in her back and it was starting to get quite painful.

It was obvious that something had gone terribly awry with their plan.

The effects of the powerful drug used to pacify her had mostly worn off but were still lingering in her veins, preventing her from making abrupt movements or to look for an escape route.

All that was left to do was to wait and see.

O.O.O.O.O

Hangover or not, the situation was too dire to ignore. Llomen was dead, Gregory and Ruby were missing and perhaps in danger...talk about a rough morning.

Nobody except the intended people knew about their plan, and Christophe didn't think one of them had spilled the beans to anyone. Someone, somehow, must have come to know about the precise time and place the exfiltration was going to take place, and that was no small feat considering the amount of secrecy around the plot.

The only people that knew something were dead or missing. Christophe had no choice but to follow the only clues at his disposal. Clues that lead him straight to the Elven embassy.

The king relunctantly put on his best-looking bordeaux shirt and black pants after a quick and –much to his dismay, icy wash up that almost managed to tame his messy hair. He would hide the rest of his wild locks under his crown. Once he deemed himself presentable, he ordered his guards to follow him to the embassy, that was located in a nearby plazza, on the other side of the bridge leading to the castle. The building, with its white stone walls and blue tiles, was a drop of Elven architecture in a sea of Lysian timbered houses. Upon its arrival however, the royal retinue was met with nothing but shut doors.

"By order of the king, open this door immediately!" one of the guards banged at the door.

The order seemed effective. A member of the Elven delegation rushed at the entrance and was quite dumbfounded to find the king right in front of him.

"Your Majesty! This is quite...unexpected!"

"I need to speak to the ambassador at once."

"Of course, of course, do come in..."

They did so and the Elves inside the building were as surprised as the first one to see the king barge in with an armed retinue. The ambassador was quick to meet up with them.

"Your Majesty, this is an honor to see you again this early!"

"I'm afraid the circumstances of my visit are unpleasant, ambassador."

"Is something wrong?"

"Do you know a Wood Elf by the name of Llomen?"

"He works here in the embassy."

"He has been found dead this morning. Someone had dumped his body in the Sanelle to get rid of it."

The eyes of the High Elves opened wide in shock. Christophe tried to spot anything suspicious in their behaviour but most, even the ambassador himself, looked genuinely shocked at the news.

"This...this is dire news indeed," the ambassador sunk into his chair, "who did this?"

"We have no idea but we have clues. He was killed at a distance by arrows...arrows such as this one."

Christophe stepped aside and ordered one of his guard to present the clue; an arrow of Eldeyn design. The ambassador's face turned pallid at the view.

"This is outrageous! We do not kill our own staff! Your Majesty, you do not think –"

"I do not accuse you of anything, but this embassy will be closed and thoroughly investigated until the murderer has been caught."

One of the guards found this morning particularly difficult to get through. He too, had a terrible hangover, and the irritating sunlight coming through the large windows were not helping him in making his shift more bearable. Suddenly, something masked the sun and he thanked the Lady for making this suspicious shadow appear on the roof of the opposite building.

Wait...(2)

"A TERRE!"

The guard shoved Christophe behind him and raised his shield, blocking the incoming arrow that flew through the window. At the precise moment it hit the shield, the projectile exploded in a fury of sparks, shattering all the windows and throwing everyone on the ground.

"EVERYONE GET OUT!"

_Fuck!_

The sharpshooter readied another arrow and aimed. This time, he would not miss his target.

"HALTE!"

He turned around and spotted two guards on the roof behind, running towards him.

"YOU ARE UNDER ARR –GAH!"

The guard was struck down by the assassin's arrow before he could close in. The other tried to catch him but the swift scum jumped down and landed in the street beneath.

At the same time, Christophe and everyone else in the embassy had gone out and they ended up a mere feet away from their mysterious aggressor, shrouded beneath a dark hood. Upon seeing this many opponents, the assassin skedaddled through the streets.

"GET HIM! I WANT HIM ALIVE!"

The guards ran as fast as their armors allowed them, which was almost nothing compared to the speed at which the mysterious figure was running. In fact, the latter was confident that he had already left his pursuers behind.

His gaze wandered around, in order to get proper knowledge of his surroundings. It was a townsquare like many others, but its main feature was a rather singular and tall tower, rising from the middle of the plazza like a stone tree. At its feet, a garden like no others in the capital; bushes, fruit trees, bright flowers, it was almost dazzling and a sharp contrast with the rest of the rather grey and dull surrounding streets.

"You are far from your land, Elf. Your heart is as black as night." (3)

The assassin nearly jumped out of his skin and took out a sharp dagger from beneath his cloak, ready to strike at whoever had spoken. He found only a young girl dressed in a bright white dress and curly blond hair. A crown of ivy and white lilies was resting on her forehead.

"Get away from me, brat, or I'll cut you down!" he threatened.

"Vain threats. I would reconsider if I were you." she shrugged him off.

He let out a frustrated cry and jumped forward, ready to stab her in the chest. However, at the speed of lightning, the maiden raised her hand and the roots of the trees around her sprung to her and formed a defensive cocoon that broke the weapon on touch.

"What?!"

The roots reformed and tied themselves around his arm and legs, lifting him up in the air and immobilizing him completely.

"What are you?!"

"My name is Annie Knitts. I am –"

"The Fay Enchanteress!"

She turned her gaze towards Christophe and his guards, who had just arrived at the scene. They immediately knelt in front of her in sign of great reverence, for the Fay Enchanteress was the personal representative of the Lady of the Lake, and as such, the most influential figure in all of Lys, even above the king himself.

"Rise, noble king. We have more pressing matters." she said as she released the fugitive from her spell.

The assassin was surrounded and held at sword's point by the guards. One of them took off his hood, revealing fair skin, pointy Elven ears and short blond hair.

"Speak, assassin," Christophe ordered, "who sent you?"

He spat at his feet as an answer.

"Congratulations, you just changed your sentence from "hung" to "quartered. Now speak before I lose my patience and have your nails removed one by one."

"May I handle this?" Annie stepped in.

"Of course, Your Grace."

The Enchanteress whispered an incantation and raised her hand to the criminal's head. As soon as her finger touched the other's forehead, his eyes rolled back and he seemed to lose conscioussness.

"The Lady compells thee, speak the truth here and now!"

"I...I was sent to ambush the king and kill him." the Elf muttered in a ghastly voice.

"By whom?"

"By..."

O.O.O.O.O

(4)

"Sir Gregory. What an unpleasant surprise."

The blond remained silent as he made his way through the room, past the table and sat in the chair in front of the girl. His lips were curved into a grin that made her blood boil.

"I see that My Lady hasn't lost her conversation during her travels."

"I take it you do not intend to let me go back to Telos."

The knight took an offended expression, bringing a hand to his chest in an overly-dramatic way.

"I would never dare, My Lady! I will see that you go back to your country at once, but you see, your friend, that is Lord Token, does not seem to be a safe bet. Queen Marjorine, on the other hand..."

"You are going to hand me to her?"

"She has a lot to offer."

He turned around and went to fetch a bottle of wine resting on the table. He poured himself a glass and went back to his "guest".

"Wine? Oh, that's true..."

He let out a chuckle and left his glass on the table. Then, he drew a dagger from his belt and cut the ropes that were restraining Ruby's hands. As soon as her hands were fried, the girl tried to get away but the knight's grip on her arms was too strong.

"Such audacity!" Gregory laughed, "It is truly admirable, although quite unlady-like!"

"Release me and I'll show you how unlady-like I can be!"

"In due time. For now, let's keep it civil and have a drink."

He let her go, keeping his dagger in hand to remind her that any other attempt at fleeing would cost her. Sure, she was too valuable to kill, but Marjorine wouldn't mind if she was missing a finger or two.

He poured another glass that Ruby reluctantly accepted.

"You have betrayed your king and your friend. So much for the knightly virtues..." she gave a sour laugh.

"I am an outlander at heart. I have never understood the chivalric fanatism of the Lysians, they bind themselves to this code...really, strange women lying in ponds and distributing swords is no basis for a system of government!"

"As much as I may agree with you on that point, that doesn't change the fact that you are an oathbraker and a snake."

"Such foul words coming from such a pretty mouth."

"What have you done of Llomen?"

"Ah, poor Llomen...I had to get rid of him. He would have been nothing but a hindrance. Christophe must have found the body by now...My agent made sure that every clue pointed towards the embassy. It would be a shame if the king found an untimely end while visiting it..."

Ruby remained silent but cracks had begun to appear in her strong façade. They had been manipulated from the very start and the realization came crashing down on her.

"You...you really are a cunt, aren't you?"

Gregory savored his last drop of wine as he contemplated his genius.

"Since Christophe has no heir yet, his brother will certainly inherit the throne. The poor thing is a drooling fool."

"For whom you will assume the regency, I presume?"

"Indeed, but that's not all. I have other plans."

He took a step forward and cup her chin with his hand.

"And you will help me set them in motion."

"Be careful not to choke on your own ambition." she talked back while slapping his hand away.

"You must be tired after all this travelling. Let us resume our conversation later. Since we have time, let me give you the honor of a last supper in my humble residence..."

He clapped his hands and a guard entered the room.

"Show Lady Ruby her quarters and order the maids to prepare a bath. She must be exquisite for tonight!"

O.O.O.O.O

(5)

Betrayed by his closest friend.

Christophe refused to believe it at first, but who was he to question the Fay Enchanteress herself? He was overcome by sadness, but it didn't take long for it to turn into a devastating anger. The corridors of the castle echoed his roars and furious commands as he assembled his best knights and required the fastest mounts the royal stables had to offer; hippogryphs.

The half-horse, half-bird beasts were large and powerful and their wings could keep them in the air for almost a day without the need to land. Carefully prepared with saddle and plate armor protecting its rear-end, the mount was even more impressive once its knight sat on its back. The hippogryph itself was a weapon; vicious and ill-tempered, it could rip a man apart with its beak and claws. However, if raised from birth by a knight, it would become his most loyal companion, and that was exactly the case for Cendré, Christophe's very own hippogryph that he had taken care of since it was a chick.

The hippogryphs had been brought to the main courtyard and were soon joined by their owners. A dozen of them were ready to take off, and were only waiting for Christophe's command. He was the last one to arrive, clothed with a deep blue tunic with golden lilies on top of his harness. Cendré purred at his master's arrival, seemingly excited by the prospect of a new adventure.

"Your Majesty."

Christophe turned around and saw Annie coming to him. He was about to kneel but the Enchanteress stopped him with a hand gesture.

"Your Grace?"

"The Lady...gave me a vision. Our fair land is in grave danger, noble king. The Lady's blessed presence seems to...to fade."

She had spoken the words as if each of them was driving a sword into her heart. Christophe – and no one in Lys for that matter, did know precisely _who_ Annie Knitts was except that she was the Fay Enchanteress. The commonly accepted theory was that she was the living embodiment of the Lady, a vessel through which she could let her will be known. Some thought that it was merely the Lady herself in disguise, others that she was the living embodiment of Lys as a land itself. No matter what they believed, they all agreed on one point: the Enchanteress was inextricably linked to nature and life, and by extension, the Lady.

"Do you mean that the land is tainted, Your Grace?"

"If what you say is correct, then I fear that the world as a whole is tainted. The conspiracy against you and Lady Ruby is one of the many dark seeds that, I fear, will soon sprout."

"Then what should we do?"

"Do what you have always done, Christophe de Lorne. Seek evil and drive it from the land. The Lady has already blessed you with a sip of the Grail, but I will bestow another blessing upon you."

Her eyes glew bright and she raised her arms high, conjuring a maelstrom of energy that filled the entire courtyard. In a bright flash of light, it disappeared and seemed to have affected the hippogryphs.

"Your beasts shall know no fatigue for a time. They will fly like birds of prey and fast like lightning. Now go, Christophe de Lorne, and purge evil from this realm!"

The king bowed and ran to his mount. He didn't need to spurr it twice; it was relentless and couldn't wait to take off.

"KNIGHTS OF THE GRAIL! ON ME!"

The knights spurred their mounts and the hippogryhs took off in a gracious ballet. The skies above the city were filled with the screech of the beasts as they flew into the horizon.

Annie watched them until they were nothing more but a dot in the infinity of the sky.

_The world will soon need its champions. I know you will answer the call when the time comes, noble king._

She disappeared, as her body divided itself into hundreds of butterflies that scattered to the winds.

O.O.O.O.O

The sun was slowly setting on the verdand hills of Fleuroy, the shades of the olive trees growing larger as the sky turned peach. Darkness shrouded the far-off mountains and the cries of the peacocks parading around the vineyards ceased.

Perched on a nearby hill, the bells of the Lady's chapel rung for the last time that day, prompting the inhabitants of the hamlet to go back to their colorful homes, now rendered monochrome and dull by the growing darkness.

There was simply something otherwordly about this country and its way of life. Compared to the gritty North, it looked straight out of a fairy tale. But even in a fairy tale, there's no escaping destiny, nor escaping the people who want your head on a pike. Ruby had understood that the hard way. Being away for months and adapting to a new life had led her to believe that she was safe and forgotten.

_What a foolish girl I am..._

She clutched her mother's necklace as she looked upon her reflection in the mirror. She had been brought to one of the estate's many bedrooms, where she could take a bath and was given fresh clothes. All of this masquerade was deeply unnerving. She knew that behind Gregory's noble manners and amicable façade, he was having a great time at tormenting her, never failing to remind her that he was making her a gift by treating her like a guest and not like a prisoner he was going to sneak oustide the country on the following day. Was she supposed to be grateful? The very thought of it made her sick.

Almost as sick as the way he had been looking at her lately. She was in his grasp and she couldn't get out. The anxiety that was tearing her insides apart lead her to think that what she had seen until then was just the tip of the iceberg.

Someone opened the door to her room, putting an end to her ruminations.

"Dinner is ready, My Lady." the servant announced.

"So am I, then."

She left the room and followed the man to the dinning room, lit by a fire burning in the hearth and by a chandelier at the middle of the table. Gregory was already there, standing near the hearth with a glass of wine in his hand. When his eyes fell on Ruby, she repressed the urge to grab the nearest piece of cutlery and stab him with it.

Stabbing people with a butter knife was not how it was done.

"I'm delighted to see that you are back to your resplendent self!" he welcomed her with a honeyed tone.

"You said a single sentence and I already want to stab you to death. There's really something special about you."

The servants exchanged a concerned look. Gregory clapped his hands and dismissed their worries.

"All staff to the kitchen, please! I see you do not share the damsel's sense of humor!"

They all left immediately. Gregory offered a glass of wine to his reluctant guest.

"I'm sure you will find the wine to your liking, it is my very first cuvée."

"How fortunate of me. I must admit it is quite tasty."

They sipped a few times, and Ruby hoped that the intoxication would make this evening more bearable. On the other hand, she would be even more vulnerable than she already was.

"I am sorry that it had to come to this." Gregory said.

"You chose your path long ago and on your terms. Keep your apologies." she clapped back sharply.

"Tell me, is your silver tongue a gift from birth?"

"It's a family tradition."

"I see. It is quite sad that this legacy will soon end, then..."

He suddenly closed the distance between them, making them too close to each other for Ruby to not feel uncomfortable. Besides, his orange shirt was an insult to good taste, and his gaze was wandering on her back that her dress let apparent, way too much for her liking.

"You never told me what you expect of Marjorine." she quickly changed the subject.

"Ah, yes...you see, once I offer you to her, I'm sure she will consider your humble servant here as a suitable party."

An awkward silence fell and Ruby couldn't hold a genuine laugh. Gregory raised his eyebrow in confusion.

"You want to marry her? Oh that's...oh that's rich. You have no idea who you are messing with. If there's a bit of sense left in her she will have us both executed the minute we set foot in Kingsrock."

"Is that so? That's not what I've heard of her."

The servants entered the room and served the entrée, cutting their conversation short. Since the table was large, they would dine on opposite ends. The food was delicious but it did not bring comfort to Ruby at all. The wine was getting her a little dizzy, at least.

"Even when you eat, you are beyond graceful."

"Really? I simply understand the difference between eating and stuffing myself."

"It is quite obvious," he chuckled, "but do tell me...the queen. How is she really?"

Ruby took a moment to think about her answer.

"She's an interesting girl."

"Is she?"

"Nah, not particularly. The one that keeps a leash on her, on the other hand, is the real man you want to deal with. Her Hand."

"Oh really?"

"If I'm here today, it's partly because of him. He pulled all the strings to make sure that my brother was out of the picture. Quite the despicable man. I think you simply have bet on the wrong horse."

"Oh? Because there are other options?"

The main course was served; roasted beef with its sauce accompanied by the famous ratatouille, a regional specialty. The meat was incredibly tender, the knife cut through it like butter. The Lysians really had a talent for fine cuisine, no wonder the richest in Telos would throw away fortunes to hire a cook from these lands.

"So my dear," Gregory said while refilling his glass, "what would be my other options?"

"Me of course. Don't you know I have friends in Telos? Friends who would do anything to have me on the throne."

She couldn't tell if it was his growing intoxication or genuine interest, but Gregory seemed most interested by the idea.

"Cheeky, coming from you. Aren't your allies isolated and desperate?"

"Quite the contrary. Marjorine's influence does not go far beyond the capital, she's surrounded by rebellious subjects. She does not have the troops to spare, you see."

Gregory raised from his seat, his cheeks red from drinking. He sure liked what he was hearing, but it almost sounded too good to be true.

"And let's say you win. What guarantees do I have? What tells me that you aren't just fooling me?"

Ruby brought the glass to her lips and offered him her most seductive look.

"Why be queen of only one land when I could have both with you?"

Gregory laughed at the audacity.

"In order to do that, you would have to marry me and give me many children."

His gaze and tone left no doubts as to what he wanted. Ruby raised from her seat and locked eyes with him, filled with renewed determination. She reached for the bottle of wine on the table and refilled their glasses.

"So, do we have a deal?" (6)

The defiance in her eyes was enough to sent him to the edge. He always had found her distance and verbal thrashing enticing, but now that she was showing her ambitious side, she was simply irresistible. A forbidden fruit that he would very soon taste.

Those stupid fairy tales about a princess and a knight...they had some degree of truth in them. But who said the knight had to be noble, who said the princess had to be a simple damsel with no other wish than to marry a prince?

Gregory raised his glass and cheered with his guest.

"We have a deal."

They drank and Ruby watched as the man in front of her emptied his glass and reached for her own, putting them both away. He was dangerously close to her.

"Now, how about making this deal permanent?" he whispered in her ear, sending shivers down her spine.

"Show me the way."

The blond exhaled louder and took her by the hand. He lead her through the corridors to an aisle where she never had been before. They eventually reached the door to Gregory's room and they went in.

As soon as they passed the door, the knight crashed his lips against the maiden's, savoring the taste of the lips he had desired for months. She gave in to him and undid the laces of his tunic, that was thrown on the ground shortly after. She allowed her hands to trace the line of his muscles as he played with her long hair and could not get enough of her hungry kisses.

She pushed him on the bed, noticing the growing bulge in his pants. He sat up straight on his elbows and watched in delight as she untied the laces at the back of her peach dress. He watched and sighed as the piece of cloth fell at her feet, revealing her frail yet gorgeous body. Her read hair flowing down her shoulders, caressing her breast, and her pink lips, she was the fairest maiden in all of the land. And she was all for him.

She let her hand slide through his pants and he shivered in pleasure. She let out a chuckle.

"Let me take care of you, hm?"

"I would have it no other way..."

He laid back and closed his eyes, ready to indulge in his pleasure. He opened them an instant later, as a terrible pain invaded his chest and as a visceral noise tore through the silence.

Such a shame that Ruby had made sure he drank way more than she did to numb his sense.

Such a shame that in his eagerness, he did not see her grab a knife with her free hand and keep it between the laces of her dress.

"W—what..."

Blood spilled as she freed the knife and stabbed him again, repeatedly, relentlessly, a silent scream coming out of his mouth each and every time the blade tore through his flesh. She got up and towered over him, as he was slowly drowning in his own blood, his chest pierced at ten, maybe fifteen different spots.

"I told you to be careful not to choke on your own ambition." she threw at him as she sat on the bed. The panic in his eyes was...delightful, exhilarating.

"I...why..."

"You think you were the only one who could deceive others? Tug at the right strings to get what you want? I've beaten you at your own game."

She grabbed his hand as he tried desperatly to reach for her. His eyes widened in horror as she lifted the blade once more.

"Your greed and your lust for me were easy to manipulate, and they were your undoing. Now you will die a traitor's death."

She smiled at him.

"Farewell, Ser Gregory."

"N-NO—"

She stabbed him a final time in the neck. His arms twitched for a few seconds, desperatly and vainly trying to grab her before falling flat on the blood-soaked sheets.

She left the bed and put her dress back on, staining it with her bloody fingers. She turned around and saw the extent of what she had done.

She had murdered someone in cold blood. Before, she would have been sick and revolted at the thought but now...everything was different. The rush of adrenaline as she drove the knife through him, the hatred and fury that had been building up within her until that very moment...and now that all of it was gone, she felt relieved.

However, it was no time for introspection. She needed to get out of there.

O.O.O.O.O

(7)

Night had fallen, but this did not slow down the flight of the hippogryphs. Blessed by the Enchanteress, the beasts darted through the sky like arrows.

Christophe knew very well that their best chance to find Ruby was to directly go to Gregory's estate in Fleuroy and raid it before they could cross the mountain pass further north.

With the moon shining upon them, the hippogryphs screeched and dived to the ground. The guards stationned at the towers lit the bonfires and soon the sound of the alarm bells echoed through the vineyards.

Most of the guards were hired peasants but the rogue knights leading them were more of a threat, as well as the Orc mercenaries hired by Gregory a few days earlier, armed and armoured to the teeth.

The hippogryph knights reached the ground and mowed down the unfortunate souls that stood too close to them.

Cendré was the last one to land, making sure to crush an Orc under its hoofs in the process. As Christophe jumped to the ground, his mount bit the head of a nearby guard and tossed him around like a dog playing with a bone.

"KNIGHTS! ON ME!"

The steel-clad warriors finished their bloody business and surrounded their king as the mercenary Orc warband charged them from the other side of the courtyard.

"Crush the Greenskin scum! The Lady wills it!"

"THE LADY WILLS IT!"

They rushed to the fray and clashed with the Orcs in close-quarter combat. The knights bashed their shields in the enemy's face, breaking their impetus and stabbing them with their swords. Greenskins, peasants, oathbrakers, they all fell to the Lady's most blessed warriors. It didn't take long for the gardens to be filled with bodies, as the Grail knights stood triumphant.

They were surprised by the front doors opening from the inside. They were even more bewildered to see Ruby walk out of the mansion, clothes stained with blood and a dripping knife in her hand. Neverminding all of this, Christophe rushed to her. (8)

"Are you alright?"

"Yes I'm quite fine, thank you."

"What happened?"

The girl remained silent and threw a quick side glance at the blade she was holding. She needn't say anything more.

"I'm sorry." she managed to say.

"Don't be. It had to be done."

He would weep later. Not his enemy, but the memory of a friend that had shared his life like no one else.

Even the sturdiest bounds of friendship and love could be corrupted. Greed, desire for more, it could poison the most sincere of friendships. Christophe thought that there might be more truth to the virtues than he believed.

"I'm relieved to see you are alive and well too, Your Majesty."

"It waz a close call, but thank ze Lady ze plots against us have been defeatèd."

_Indeed, noble king._

The Fay Enchanteress materialized in front of them.

"Thanks to your valiant efforts, the rogue knight has been defeated, and his taint removed from the land. But there is more that you must do, Ruby of house Tucker."

Ruby usually did not trust magical ladies appearing out of thin air, but Christophe seemed to hold her in high esteem.

"And what would that be?"

"Destiny has brought you to Lys, but now it calls you back to the land whence you came. The siblings once separated will soon be reunited in their finest hour."

"Craig?! Craig is coming back from exile?!"

The Enchanteress nodded, much to her surprise.

"Go forth on your intended route, Ruby of house Tucker. Know that the people of Lys and the Lady will watch over you."

Annie bowed down and faded away. Christophe offered Ruby a sad smile.

"It looks like you vill be leaving us soon."

"Indeed. But I do not need a mystical lady to know that I will come back to visit you."

He seemed genuinely touched at the words. It was the least she could do after the trials of the last days.

"Ah, quite witty as always." he chuckled.

"Do I ever stop?" she grinned in return.

"No and thank the Lady you won't ever stop, my dear friend."

He held out his arm and she did the same, sharing the accolade of the knights.

A fine twist to the tale of the knight and the damsel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers, I apologize for the long delay. My internship is taking almost all my time, and to be frank the inspiration did not flow quite well these days. I've been struggling with a rather difficult part of my life at the same time. However, if excuses are made to be used, I don't like self-pitying too much, so I've taken up a new routine that hopefully will help me publish more regularly.  
> On the technical side, you may have noticed that Christophe's accent is mostly absent but comes back at the end. It is because Ruby speaks another language than his own, and there's no point of him having an accent when he speaks to his own people. And honestly, even if I'm a native French speaker, writing such a dreadful accent gives you a headache in no time.  
> Thank you for reading and commenting as always. See you soon!


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